


What Time Cannot Erase

by jadedace



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Author is not a doctor, Drama, F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedace/pseuds/jadedace
Summary: I'm eight years late to the game, so have a multi-chapter fic that no one asked for.The Enterprise answers the distress signal of a crippled transport ship, and they find only one survivor aboard: a Romulan woman claiming to have just witnessed the death of her home planet at the hands of a supernova.





	1. The End

It is chaos all around her. Screams fill the recycled air, and the atmosphere is thick with terror and pain. She hears the cries of the other refugees, and knows hers must be among them. How can it not? Outside the dingy windows of the evac shuttle, they have just seen their beloved  _ch'Rihan_  blown to bits. Torn to pieces by an exploding star, killing everyone they know with it. Thus the heart-shredding grief.

The supernova continues on its path of destruction, wiping out the other planets and satellites in the Romii system, scattering their civilization to the stars. The shockwave from the star slams into their retreating shuttle, catching the small craft broadside and sending it spinning out of control through space. Warning klaxons scream and red lights flash incessantly, adding to the bedlam. Thus the terror.

She is crouched in a corner, her arms covering her head and her knees tucked beneath her, praying to every deity imaginable to save them. Save her. Save her unborn child. Somehow get them out of this mess they’re in. But the Elements either do not hear her, or have abandoned the Rihannsu, because the end doesn't come. Not for a long while. And when she is at last whisked away from the hellish conditions of the small refugee transport, it is at the hands of the ship's collapsing infrastructure—more precisely, a large metal rebar, traveling at an almost lethal velocity. She only has time to curl herself around her pregnant belly before being thrown into unconsciousness as it strikes the side of her head.

 

* * *

 

Mandana doesn’t know how long she floats beneath the surface of awareness, but when at last she does come up for air, she is at first unaware that she has done so. Everything is so quiet and dark and still, a far cry from the chaotic mess she recalls.

The pain is what tells her she is awake. Mandana’s brain is the victim of such a brilliant concussion that any light at all would have sent her into a fit; she is grateful for the darkness. She can feel a warm wetness on the side of her head where the beam struck her temple. Her shoulders ache, her legs and arms are cramped, but she is otherwise unharmed. She is, however, trapped. Sometime during her unconsciousness, a large bulkhead fell and became wedged between the walls, pinning her beneath it. It is all but impossible to move from her horribly uncomfortable position with the large sheet of metal inhibiting her movements. Mandana’s first order of business is throwing off the troublesome bulkhead.

Bracing her shoulders on either side of the corner that she is currently trapped in, she lifts her palms to the smooth underside of the sheet and struggles to shift the load. It doesn't budge. She tries once more, shifting so that her hands are braced against the ground and her shoulders are pushing up on the sheet, with the same results. It is abundantly clear that she will not be able to escape her prison alone.

"Help!" Mandana calls out, hoping one of the other refugees is in a position to help her. The cry is met only with the echo of her own voice. A feeling of uneasiness trickles into her mind, sending ice water down her spine. Surely there must be some other person who is conscious and capable of a verbal acknowledgement. So she shouts out again, straining her ears for the slightest sound that might indicate someone else is awake. Or alive.

There is no response.

Uneasiness quickly changes to mounting panic. She tries to control her wild emotions, but her professional training abandons her. Mandana attacks the bulkhead with a hysterical energy, screaming the entire time.  _I can't be alone on this ship, someone else has to be alive. They'll hear me, they'll find me, and they'll rescue me. We'll be alright. They can't all be—_

She doesn’t allow herself to think the word. She doesn’t want to consider that she might be the last Rihannsu alive. The supernova can't have killed them all! She can't be all alone!  _All alone…_ She freezes suddenly. A new kind of terror grips her when she remembers the one being who's life she can readily assure herself of. And the fact that she hasn’t felt a sign of that life since before unconsciousness.  _Oh Elements, no!_

Her hand flutters to her belly, searching a sign of life from her son.  _He has to be alive, he can't have died, please Elements let him have survived…_ she waits an agonizingly long time. It could have only been a few moments, but it seems like hours. Tears bud in her eyes and her lower lip quivers. It seems he  _hasn't_  made it...

And a second later she feels a sound kick against her palm. Instantly Mandana collapses against the wall, tears of relief streaming down her dirty face.  _Thank you, Elements._  The first bit of good news since her husband left ch'Rihan a month ago, whispering sweet promises of saving their home in her all-to-willing-to-listen ear. But the relief of knowing her son is alive is quickly replaced by another fear.

She boarded this refugee shuttle as a very last resort, when her husband didn't come back. Every doctor on any given planet would have told her it would be foolish to make a drastic location change so close to the birth of her child, and her being in the medical profession herself, she was extremely hesitant to get on the ship. But fear won out in the end and she boarded. Two days before her expected due date.

And now here she is, dangerously close to giving birth, alone and trapped on a dead ship.

For the millionth time since leaving the doomed ch'Rihan, she closes her eyes and sends her frantic prayers to the Elements.

 

* * *

 

She has no way of telling time on the ship, but she estimates at least four days pass. Hunger and thirst compound the headache from the concussion she received. She does eventually manage to get her legs out from the cramped position underneath her, but she has no way to stretch them beneath the bulkhead and her discomfort grows.

She expends most of her energy in the first day, fighting a losing battle against the sheet of metal on top of her. It does not move, remaining as unyielding as the mountains ringing the proud ch'Rihan city of Mhiessan—no, that analogy is all too inaccurate now, with pieces of Eilariv Mountain scattered through space. Regardless of the tactless comparison, the bulkhead remains in place, and she is unable to move it. The second day is spent either in unrestful sleep or prayer, and by the third and fourth days she has no fight or energy left to do even that. Her mind is a fog. She is vaguely aware that her son may come at any moment, but waives professional thought and marks that awful scenario as impossible. Improbable. It won't happen. Her child and she will die together, and when she reaches Vorta Vor she will see his face. But not before. Any other time that thought would be appalling, seeing as four days ago Mandana was frantic to reassure herself of his survival, but just now, in this moment, the thought is comforting. She has just about resigned their lives to that fate when the Elements decide to remind her that they won't let her go peacefully.

At first she thinks it is just her body begging for food, that small lurch in her abdomen. After all, she can't remember the last time she ate. So Mandana pays it no mind. Nor does she the second time, when it happens an hour or so later, or the third, when it happens an hour after that. But the fourth strange lurch brings her back to reality. Of course she couldn't have expected her son to wait for rescue, or death, before coming. She should be surprised he's waited this long. Still, she tries to think up any other explanation for the cramps. But with the fifth contraction, her denial melts away and all that's left is the now-familiar feeling of fear. Fueled only by adrenaline and empowering hysteria, she attacks the prison with renewed vigor.

It is amazing what desperation will do. After only ten minutes of clawing and kicking at the immovable bulkhead, she manages to get her arms and shoulders through the small space between it and the wall. Unfortunately, that space is minuscule, and her middle is quite large, with no hope of following her upper half out. The situation is hopeless. If Mandana’s body had any ounce of moisture left in it, she is sure she would've cried, but as is she only feels a stinging at the corners of her eyes. A wordless cry of fear, pain, and frustration scrapes the lining of her throat raw, a release of all the pent-up emotion of the past four days.

_What did I ever do to deserve this?_  she thinks, falling limp against the bulkhead as another contraction passes. They are coming sooner, less than half an hour apart, and lasting longer. She is about to give up hope when she hears the impossible: a voice.

It's a far-away voice, and the words are indistinguishable. In fact, it's so faint that at first she is unsure if she’s actually heard it. Maybe, in her terror, she is hallucinating and imagining what she desperately wants to hear. But, even if the voice was just a figment of her imagination, for sanity's sake, she has to try and get its attention.

"Help!" she shouts, "Help! Please!" Her voice cracks, spent from the animalistic scream of moments before. Is she loud enough? Was she heard? She wants to leap for joy when she hears the same voice again, still very far away, but undoubtedly a  _voice_. Thank the Elements! She shouts again and again to the mystery voice, and every so often pauses to listen for its responses. She hears it only twice more, but each time it's getting closer. She is so sure rescue is near, and not a moment too soon; she feels another contraction, this one only fifteen minutes from the last.

A few minutes later she hears footsteps, and this time she can make out individual words.

The language is familiar, but Mandana can pick up very few words. Federation Standard, most probably a human. Normally she might play out an encounter with a human cautiously. But she doesn't think the situation she’s in falls under the category of “normal.”

"Help!" she calls out in Standard (at least, she hopes it's Standard; it has been years since she ever thought about the language). Her rescuer comes into view then, ducking through a collapsed passageway and appearing amidst the sea of wreckage. The entire ceiling is just about gone, no more than random pockets of exposed, sparking wires, and pieces of the ceiling's paneling cover the floor, from the wall where she is to the large dirty windows that offer a panoramic view of space—when one is standing, that is. From her uncomfortable vantage point on the floor, she can see only a few pitiful stars through the corner of the clearsteel.

Her rescuer is silhouetted against the window, but she can tell right away he is human. And even in the dim light, the arrow-shaped badge on his chest glitters.  _Starfleet_. But who else was she expecting? Her own kind?

The man scans the field of debris, and his eyes finally land on her, pinned into the corner by the damned bulkhead. She can't see his expression, but she has to wonder what he thinks of the dirty, hysterical Rihannsu woman staring back at him. Stupidly, she feels embarrassed about her current appearance and suppresses the urge to smooth down her wild mess of auburn curls. Instead, she reaches out a pleading hand towards him.

“Help," she mouthes, unable to produce even a hoarse whisper. Thirst and hysteria have taken their toll on her voice. The human is already moving, grabbing one side of the bulkhead and pulling at it. She presses my shoulder once more against the unyielding trap, but even with their combined efforts it doesn't budge. He steps back, and for a moment Mandana believes he is leaving her. Her hand flies out of its own accord, latching itself around his wrist. She doesn't want to be alone again. The man, his face in shadows, says something in a calming voice, something along the lines of "help." That seems to be the only Standard word she remembers.

But Mandana is physically and mentally incapable of releasing her vice grip on his arm. He must realize this, because he leans back against the wall beside her prison-bulkhead, where she can hold him without stretching too far, and flips open what can only be a communicator. Mandana hears him say a few things into the box, but only recognizes one other word:  _Spock_.

In the fried recesses of her mind, she doesn't find the name at all misplaced in the current settings. It was common on ch'Rihan, especially in the final days of the planet. She remembers her husband, on the night of his departure, telling Mandana that Spock had the answers to the supernova's threat, and that he was all ch'Rihan needed to survive...

Mandana is tired. She is hungry and thirsty, and above all she is in pain. The memory of happier days is intoxicating, like a numbing balm on all of her discomfort. She struggles to bring back more of the memories, needing to see the faces of her father and her sisters and, most of all, her husband...

She must have been fading out, going into shock (a state that is way overdue), because the Starfleet human is suddenly crouching in front of her, the one hand held in her loosening grip gently holding her face.

"Hey, stay with me, we're going to get you out of here," he says in a calm, encouraging voice. "You're going to be alright. Just hang on a little bit longer." Later she will find it odd that the universal translator took so long to kick in, but at the moment she doesn't question it. She nods numbly, wincing as another contraction takes hold of her body. They are so close together now, so terrifyingly close...

At last Spock, the help the Starfleet human ordered in, arrives. She thinks her husband was right when he said Spock was all the Rihannsu needed. After much grunting, grip readjusting, and help from their phasers, the man and the Vulcan manage to haul the bulkhead off of Mandana. She tries to help, but in her deteriorating condition, she knows she doesn't do much. Once the large piece of metal, which has largely been supporting her these past four days, is gone, she realizes she doesn't have the strength to stand, or even hold herself up. She falls forward to the stained floor, curling around the lump in her belly that she knows won't be there much longer. One hand still manages to hang on to the human.

Almost before she hits the floor, she feels strong hands grip her arms, trying to gently pull her to her feet. But as they try to get her upright, a splitting pain, worse than anything she has ever felt, tears up her spine. Mandana cries out and doubles over, her face contorting in agony. Her hand clamps tighter around the human's. It's then the two Starfleet officers realize just how critical her condition is, on the edge of unconsciousness and in the progressed stages of labor. She hears the human shouting into his communicator, his voice just a bit frantic, asking for a man he calls McCoy.

After that, she reaches the threshold of her ability to concentrate or focus. Everything is a blur of color and pain, sweeping her along to some unknown destination, none of which she tries to understand. She knows a third man has joined them, she feels the strange buzz of a transporter, but she can't piece any of it together. And as she is whisked along in this nightmare state, through brilliant white halls filled with the faces of a hundred different beings, the only coherent thought she has, the only thing she is absolutely  _certain_  of, is: _I'm safe_.

Throughout it all, she doesn’t let go of the human's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been writing this fan fic since 2011. It has taken 7 years, 7 long years, for me to work up the motivation to finish this story. Once upon a time it was posted on ff.net under a different name, but I have revamped it and decided to post it here. I know I'm like. Nine years too late to the Nero fan fic game, and I don't expect anyone to even read this, but for my own sanity I had to post and finish. For anyone who might be reading this, welcome! I hope you enjoy.


	2. Just a Dream

Childbirth is the single most painful experience of Mandana’s life. Caught between lucidity and oblivion, she is not so far gone that she doesn't perceive physical sensation, though she can't make much sense out of it. The one thing that keeps her anchored in consciousness is the human, who never leaves her side. She’s not sure if that is because he senses she needs him, or the fact that her hand is so tightly clamped around his wrist that to leave her means to leave his limb behind as well. She can almost imagine that, instead of some alien Federation officer, it is her husband, standing beside her where he belongs.

After an eternity of pain, she experiences one moment of clarity as the sound of a newborn's cry pierces the fog.  _Her_  newborn. Her son. Hearing his first strangled cry is a welcome sound to her ears, and for one brief moment fills Mandana with such elation that she feels like she is flying (a very good feeling, as opposed to many of the other sensations she experienced the past tenday). And then exhaustion falls on her like a ton of bricks, and she blacks out.

When she wakes up (hours later, she assumes), she is all alone in the sickbay. Half of her professional mind is outraged at this fact. What kind of operation are these Federation types running!? Were she in the position of the doctors on this Federation ship, she would not have left a traumatized patient all to her lonesome, no matter how brief a period. They knew nothing about the circumstances under which she came here, or about her new crippling fear of being left alone. At the very least, the chief surgeon could have left one of his nurses in charge to ensure that she didn’t wake up and walk off.

But, despite this slip-up, she can't maintain any sort of anger at her rescuers. Her body, which hasn't seen a drop of moisture in days, no longer cries out for water. Or food, for that matter. The other various pains she experienced on the evac shuttle are all gone, carried away by the strong medication she has received. And she is not tired. She feels as though she has slept for days (for all she knows, she has). In short, she feels almost one-hundred percent again.

With her own body feeling fully repaired, she gingerly props herself up on one elbow to get a better look at her surroundings. Her impression of the sick bay is that it is small and white, until she sees the archway leading to the main entrance. Mandana figures she must be in just one pod of the entire medical bay. She is lying on the fourth of the five bio beds in this pod, far enough away that she can't see directly into the other ward. Her only view is the a bland white curtain that covers the entrance and offers her a small bit of privacy.

Hers is the only occupied bed in the pod, which explains why the individual curtain around her bed isn't drawn. Above her she can hear the familiar beeping of machines monitoring her vitals. She recognizes some of the other equipment scattered about the space, but most of it looks archaic. Almost as though she’s been transported into a documentary about pioneer medicine. Her first impressions of the Federation are not good ones. Yes, they rescued her, and yes, they have healed her, but it seems a miracle they managed even that with the ancient equipment before her. Mandana frowns and leans back against the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. She notices, also, that the clothing she boarded the evac shuttle in is gone, replaced by a starched white hospital gown.

Her eyes continue to roam around the room, searching for some sort of color among the sterile blandness, but instead they find a cradle, directly across the room from her bed. At the same moment, her hand subconsciously moves to her now flat, childless belly. Mandana’s original thought that she has been alone in the medical pod was wrong. Of course they left her son with her. There is nothing she wants more than to hold the infant in her arms, as the first and only memory she has of him is an ear-shattering cry.

She could call for assistance—she knows that is what she _should_  do—but now that her life is in no danger, she will play her encounters with the Federation beings differently. And that means not relying on them for such a simple task as holding her own baby. Keeping her eyes on the archway, she slowly pushes herself up out of bed. The irony of this situation is not lost on her; she remembers a time when she would've given any patient who tried this an earful. After what she’s been through, she knows it isn't a wise idea to try to walk over and pick up her baby. But logic takes a backseat to emotional need just now, as she gingerly lowers her feet to the ground.

The moment her hands release the bed, her legs give out and she drops to her knees on the tile. Only then does she remember that, upon being freed from her metal prison back on the evac shuttle, she was unable to stand. Not using your legs for almost a tenday really takes its toll. Nevertheless, she grits her teeth and pushes herself back up. It takes her a couple more tries before she can finally walk on her own, albeit a bit shakily. Her eyes turn back to the entrance of the pod, half expecting to see one of the medical staff on the Federation ship glaring back at her from the curtain. She doesn't see anyone.

_This is_ precisely _why you don't leave traumatized patients alone,_ Mandana thinks, though she is grateful no one has come in to yell at her yet. It takes her an embarrassingly long time to shuffle across the floor, and each time she stumbles she flinches at the resulting noise, expecting someone to hear and come running. But no one shows up, so she continues on. And at last she takes her final step and reaches the cradle where she is positive her son has to be.

And glancing down into the small crib, the last few minutes of humiliating struggle become worth it. There lies her newborn, swaddled in blue and sleeping peacefully. A forest of dark hair covers his head. Even at his newborn age, she can't help but notice the resemblance to his father as she reaches down and strokes his cheek with her finger. The infant sighs and snuggles deeper into his blankets.

"That was painful to watch," she hears a drawling voice say, his tone light-hearted. "Next time you might want to call for help. We don't bite." Her head snaps up to see a human male in a blue uniform, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. She is surprised that she can recognize him as McCoy, the doctor who was called while she was slipping in and out of reality. His smile is disarming and good-natured, which puts Mandana on alert instead of calming her down like he no doubt intended. Suspicion is a trait bred into Rihannsu, and she can't help but wonder if these Starfleet types have an ulterior motive to rescuing her. She can imagine her father and her husband, the few of her own kind who aren't put off by the idea of at least considering to negotiate with the Federation, telling her that the notion is ridiculous.

In her mind, Nero rolls his eyes and sighs theatrically.  _You're such a cynic, Mandana. Try to be optimistic about something, for once._ His traditional line to her, whenever she brought up the dangers of mining and how she feared for his life every time he left on a tour in the Outmarches. More recently used when he told Mandana he was going to put his trust in Spock to save their planet. She was in favor of taking what they needed to save ch'Rihan by force, and objected to the plan of negotiations, believing that trusting the Vulcan would be their downfall. And Nero smiled, kissed her gently, and said Spock was all the Rihannsu needed.

Mandana’s stomach twists as she realizes how wrong he was. Something went horribly awry with his plan, and perhaps her cynicism was justified. The image of her beloved home disintegrating beneath the brilliant fury of the Hobus supernova brings hot tears to her eyes. She blinks furiously to clear them before facing the doctor.

She turns and straightens from her stooped position by the crib too fast, causing the blood to rush from her head to her feet. She is hit by a wave of dizziness, and Mandana curses herself and her reaction as she sways on her feet. McCoy is by her side in an instant, gently grabbing her elbow to keep her upright, and steers her towards the bed. She wants to wave him off, tell him she is capable of walking back herself, but she knows she is not. She has ignored common sense since waking up, and decides it's time to start listening to it. So she allows McCoy to help her back to the bio bed. Ulterior motives or not, he seems genuine in his concern. He leaves her on the bed and returns moments later with Mandana’s son in his arms.

"See? Here to help." The doctor smiles down at her.

Mandana doesn't acknowledge him as she takes her son, holding him close to her chest. The boy yawns and squirms in his blanket. His sleep disturbed, he opens his eyes. She sucks in a breath at their brilliant emerald color; that's one particular trait he seems to have inherited from her.

"What are you going to call him?" Doctor McCoy asks, standing by her shoulder. She briefly considers not answering him. Not because of her suspicions about his intent (what possible advantage could telling him the name of her son give the Federation?), but because she is not sure she can talk around the lump in her throat. That supernova image is still very prevalent in her mind.

"He is named for his father," Mandana says after a pause, when she is sure she can speak without blubbering. "Oren." Then, taking the conversation in a completely different direction, she looks up and meets the human's eyes. Something that she should have noticed upon first waking is just starting to raise alarms in her head: The fact that, aside from Oren, she is the only Rihannsu in sick bay. She remembers waking up, alone on the shuttle, calling out and hearing no response. Mandana thins she knows what it means, but she has to be absolutely sure. "Did you find any...any others on the shuttle? Did anyone else survive?” she asks.

The doctor gives her a look that can only be described as sympathetic, though it seems to go much deeper than that. It is the expected response, and she knows exactly what it means. "Then my son and I are the last of our race,” Mandana says, barely above a whisper. She looks down at Oren, who is staring up at her with his large green eyes. One tiny hand has freed itself from the blankets and reaches for her face. She takes it gently in one hand, caressing the small limb with her thumb.  _The last of the Rihannsu._

"The last of your race?" McCoy says, raising an eyebrow and sounding confused. "Did something happen to Romulus?” Mandana’s mouth thins into a line. Surely the Federation is not so uninformed that they don't know of the tragedy that has occurred on the other side of the Neutral Zone! The last she heard from her husband, he had a Federation escort to Vulcan! How do they not know that the Hobus star destroyed ch’Rihan?

"Are your people so misinformed they are unaware when an entire system of planets is obliterated mere light-years from your Federation space?” Mandana snaps.

The doctor's expression has gone from confused and sympathetic to one she cannot place. He pauses for a long moment, processing her words. At last he answers, in an inflectionless voice, "By a supernova, right?"

She looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Yes."

Her answer is met with silence, a longer pause than before. And throughout this pause, McCoy doesn't take his eyes off of Mandana. She can almost see the wheels turning behind his grey-blue eyes. Once she realizes he won't be saying anymore, she looks away and turns back to Oren. His eyes are growing heavy-lidded.

"If you'll excuse me for just a moment, miss," the doctor finally says, his voice sounding detached. Mandana sneaks a glance upward to see him turn on his heel, a faraway look in his eyes, still wearing that odd expression. And then he's gone, and it is just Oren and she in the pod.

Before she has a chance to rekindle the fire about his negligence of leaving her alone, a young human woman wearing a pressed white uniform enters the pod. Her long corn-silk hair is pulled into a conservative bun at the nape of her neck, and a pleasant smile lights up her porcelain face.

She introduces herself as Nurse Chapel, and from the looks of her she seems to have just graduated from the Starfleet Academy. Politely, Mandana tells her her name, which she had forgotten to tell McCoy. And he had forgotten to ask. They small talk for a while, but it is mostly her who carries on the conversation. Mandana knows Nurse Chapel is here just to make sure she doesn't wander off, and Mandana sees no reason for her to hide that fact behind friendly words and a perfect smile. If anything, Chapel’s kindly chatting is getting on Mandana’s nerves. Chapel acts as though Mandana’s being in the sick bay is normal, that her being trapped, alone, on a shuttle, surrounded by hundreds of Rihannsu corpses for nearly a week is normal, that the loss of everything in her life that she’s ever held dear is normal. Mandana wants to take her by the collar of her perfect white uniform and scream at her to shut up, but because Oren has fallen asleep in Mandana’s arms she refrains. Instead she stares at the sheets of her bio bed, nodding politely in response to Chapel's drivel.

It is too long before before McCoy finally returns, a human in a gold uniform trailing behind him. Mandana recognizes this man, as well: the human who found her on the evac shuttle, the first face she had seen in days. After four days pinned beneath a bulkhead, his face was the most welcome sight in the universe. Now, seeing him enter the sick bay wearing an expression that matches Doctor McCoy's, she wants him to go away. Because no person with such a Vulcan-esque look can bear good news (unless the messenger is, in fact, a Vulcan). Mandana has had enough bad news to last a life time. She doesn't need to hear anymore.

At a glance from McCoy, Chapel shuts up (thank the Elements) and stands at attention. The doctor dismisses her and she hurries off to perform other nursely duties. Mandana is left with the two grave-looking men, and a feeling of uneasiness making a come back in the pit of her stomach.

"I am James Kirk, Captain of the U.S.S.  _Enterprise_ ," the man in the gold uniform says. He looks young as well, though his eyes say he's seen more than the average adolescent human. "You know my chief surgeon, Doctor McCoy."

Mandana nods. "And I am Mandana t'Karil," she answers, fixing her green gaze on the captain.

"I have a few questions to ask you, Mandana."

The captain pauses, as if waiting for her to say something. When she gives no indication of a verbal response, he continues: "I'll just cut right to the chase then. Doctor McCoy tells me that you believe Romulus was destroyed."

Before she can angrily correct him that she saw her planet disintegrated outside the window of the evac shuttle, he holds up a hand and continues. "I'm not going to deny it didn't happen. The damage to the vessel you were found in is extensive enough to have come from a...a supernova. In fact, it would explain a great many things.

"If that's the case, then I have a lot to tell. But before I get to that, I need to know one thing." Here Kirk pauses again and looks at her intently. "Mandana, does the name 'Nero' mean anything to you?"

She blinks when she hears the name, wondering how to respond. "The name Nero could belong to anyone,” she says. They couldn't possibly be referring to her husband. There must be thousands of other beings bearing the name “Nero.” The name itself on ch'Rihan is unusual, the common form being 'Oren'; for Mandana’s husband, Nero was merely a nickname. Of course they aren't talking about him! It's just a coincidence...

"He was a Romulan, commander of the mining ship  _Narada—_ " Kirk continues, but stops when she sucks in a sharp breath. At the mention of his vessel there is no doubt in her mind they are talking about  _her_  Nero. And at that exact moment other pieces of information that she ignored before now loom in the front of her mind, seeming so obvious. She knew something was wrong before, but now she struggles to find something  _right_. Spock is the Vulcan her husband said would save ch'Rihan. But ch'Rihan is dead. Spock is here. Nero is not here.  _What does it mean?_  Subconsciously, she holds her son tighter to her chest.

"You know who I am talking about," Kirk says, looking Mandana directly in the eye. She stares levelly back at him, trying to hide her unease and suspicions.  _What happened?_

"Yes. I know him. The man you are referring to is Oren tr'Karil, also known as Nero," Mandana says in a monotone. "My husband."

The responses from the doctor and the captain are not reassuring. They both tense up, as though she might suddenly jump off the bio bed and attack them. As though she has suddenly become incredibly dangerous. If she was sure of her ability to walk, she would've taken Oren and run. But weak as she is, she can only sit here, listening to words she doesn't want to hear.

"Is something wrong?" Mandana asks, though their expressions have told her enough. McCoy looks away, seeming to have gained a sudden interest in the floor. He stares at it so intensely she begins to wonder why it doesn't burst into flames. Kirk doesn't change his stance.

"Mandana..." his tone has the awkward and sympathetic qualities she knows all too well. Mandana closes her eyes, praying he doesn't say what she knows he will. "I'm sorry to tell you, but your husband is dead."

 

* * *

 

_The first time I ever saw my husband, he wasn't expected to survive. Mining accidents were notoriously nasty, and the cause of more fatalities than any other profession on ch'Rihan. Even military careers. Nero's particular mining accident wasn't any different. If anything, it seemed out of the ordinary with its gruesomeness. Everyone on staff in the medical center was amazed he had survived the transport to the planet. And, because everyone thought he was as good as dead anyway, no doctor wanted the job of telling the family that their loved one had passed on or the unique grief felt when one lost a patient. In terminal cases such as this, politics took over and the futile task of saving the doomed patient fell to the doctors at the bottom of the food chain._

_At the time, that happened to be me. I was only a year out of the Rihannsu Imperial Academy of Medicine, the youngest of the seven female doctors in the entire complex. And the most loathed, seeing as the only reason that I had been accepted into the RIAM was because of my father, Nyril tr'Verraet, a senior member of the Senate. The Verraet House was famous for its controversial views that often contradicted the common beliefs. It was also well known that, similar to other Houses, every decision the Head of House made was for power gain or wealth increase. They saw my entry into RIAM as nothing more than a convoluted scheme to grab more status than the Verraet House already possessed._

_I had multiple aunts, uncles, and cousins with various levels of political power spread throughout the Empire. One of my sisters, the eldest in the family, was in line to take my father's place on the Senate in due time. And my brother was a senior centurion in the Fleet, filled with promise to move higher up the command chain. I was expected to follow in their footsteps and boost the power of my House. But, after my mandatory five year tour with the military at age twenty, and despite pressure on all sides to take up a career in politics, I made the decision to join the medical field. I realized during my tour that I had a ridiculous fear of heights, and by extension, flying in any space vehicle. On the other hand, as a child of politics, I had always found the issues boring, the social gatherings pretentious, and the other Heads of House insufferable. My life-long desire had been to help people, and I didn't see that possibility available in any other occupation._

_Though my father did not completely approve of the career I had chosen, I was his youngest child and had him virtually wrapped around my finger. Anything I asked for, I got. So it was off to medical school for me, while Nyril scrambled to save face and find an explanation that would make my medical pathway a step up in Verraet House's power. Ridiculous as his excuse was, people bought it and I paid the price._

_I was accustomed to getting anything I wanted in life, so Academy life was a shock for me. I soon realized that, outside my father's sphere of influence, life was difficult. For the first time in my life I'd had to_ work _for something, and work hard. But I wanted this badly, and by the time I finished all the graduating exams, my degree in Rihannsu medicine was well-deserved. I wasn't at the top of my class, but I was pretty damn close. Then, despite my impressive academic career, the real world took every chance to douse me in cold reality._

_Because of the House I came from, despite all the power in the Verraet name, the controversial opinions attached and Nyril's explanation for my unusual career choice made me the constant object of loathing. It took me forever to find a steady position in a lesser medical center, and even then I was at the bottom of the proverbial totem pole._

_So it was, on that fateful night, I arrived at Operating Theater Two, sterilized and determined to save the life of a man who was thought to be already gone. I can still see Nero lying on the gurney, pale as the walls of the theater, covered in more blood than I thought any Rihannsu had in his whole body. There were other personnel in the room, of course, and as a formality there was even a cosmetic surgeon on hand, on the slim chance the miner on the table survived. But I would be the one most impacted should the broken patient not survive._

_And he did. Just barely. His vitals were stabilized, but at so far beneath their optimal performance levels that that status could change in a heartbeat. I attribute the success_ — _if you could call it that_ — _of the nerve-wracking operation more to Nero's stubbornness rather than any actual skill on my part. Sure, I did everything right by medical standards, but as doctor, I could only do so much to help the patient in the little time I was given. By all accounts, Nero should have died long before he went under the knife. And yet, ten hours, countless blood transfusions, and three cardiac revivals later, the man was out of the operating room and sent to the wing of the complex reserved for those patients who needed more intensive care. He had made it this far, but nobody expected him to pull through the night. Including me._

_Along with trying to keep a doomed patient from dying, I had the unpleasant job of telling the family that the odds of said patient surviving more than a few hours were unfavorable. Waiting rooms were for patients only; the friends and family often times went home and waited for a comm call, or huddled on the lawn beneath the sprawling park-like grounds of the medical complex and waited for news on the condition of their loved one. The latter was more probable in cases as serious as this, and that was the first place I looked. I didn't have to go far out of the building before being accosted by frantic family members of patients, all begging for an update. I lifted my hands, asking for silence. A deathly hush fell over the crowd._

" _I am looking for the family of Oren tr'K_ — _" I started, but didn't have a chance to finish before a young man and woman pushed their way forward, followed by half a dozen other Rihannsu. From the cut of their clothing, I identified them all as miners; all but the woman, who was dressed in civilian clothes and appeared to have just been dragged out of bed. Of all the people in the crowd, she looked the worst. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, her hair was pulled into a bun so messy it resembled little more than a nest for a small rodent, and, judging by the green-bronze tint of her hands, she'd been wringing them for hours._

_The man she leaned against, a tall skinny fellow who reminded me more of a twig than a person, looked better, but not by much. His mop of hair hung like a dark curtain in front of his wide, worried eyes. He had one arm around the woman, holding her like his life depended on it. A brief survey of the other six showed they wore similar expressions of worry._

" _How is he?" the man holding the woman asked in a thick voice. I looked at the mob of other patient families, the ones who had attacked me upon leaving the medical complex, huddled in their respective groups and throwing glances our way._

" _You'd better come inside," I told them, for the sake of patient confidentiality. The group of eight followed me into the indoor waiting area, which was all but abandoned at that time of night. Only the emergency ward was open, on the far side of the medical complex. I was alone with the eight friends and family of Nero._

_In my best empathetic voice, I informed the group of Nero's condition, and broke the news as gently as possible that he might not survive the night. The woman put her hand to her mouth and buried her swollen face in the jacket of the twig-man. A small hiccuped sob shook her body, though she tried to suppress it. The six miners behind the couple all seemed to be looking at the ground. The only one who didn't seem to be on the verge of tears was the scrawny bean-pole miner trying to console the crying woman._

" _Can we see him?" he asked. The thickness from before was gone, and his expression was almost Vulcan in its detached manner. I shook my head._

" _In his condition, it would not be a wise idea for him to have visitors. The effect would most certainly be negative_ — _"_

" _If he's not going to survive, where's the harm?"_

_I frowned slightly. "We don't_ know _that he won't survive. The odds are slim, but he's surprised us by making it this far. There is a chance he'll pull through."_

" _He'll make it. He has to," it took me a moment to realize the surprisingly strong voice came from the crying woman. She looked up, drilling me with such an intense stare I took a step back. "We've gotten through worse. But if he doesn't_ — _" her voice faltered, but she pressed on, "_ — _well, you know. I need to see him again."_

_She didn't need to add the word that ended her sentence for us all to know it was there:_ "I need to see him again, alive."  _The rest of the group murmured their assent._

_The fact of the matter was, even if Nero hadn't been in such a critical state, I could easily have lost my job and ruined my already fragile career by allowing them in between visiting hours. But, were the roles reversed, I'd want to see my friend/brother/father/distant relative once more, just in case they didn't pull through. I exhaled through my nose, thinking. And I made a decision._

" _Alright, fine," I said at last. "But I can't let an entire mob of people up there to see him. I will allow_ one _person_.  _The rest of you will have to wait outside_."

_Twig man looked back at the other six miners, then pointedly down at the women. It didn't take a genius to know she would be the one that the group of eight would send up. She detached herself from the man's side and I led her to the turbolift, while the others obediently exited to the waiting room. At the time, I thought allowing the woman (who I later found out to be Nero's sister) into his room was trivial. Should I not be caught in the act by one of my coworkers, this would not affect me in any dramatic way. I had no way of knowing that it would alter my life in ways I could have never foreseen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten hits! That's more than I thought this would ever get haha. I forgot to mention that this fic is also heavily influence by Diane Duane's Bloodwing trilogy; Rihannsu is to Romulan as ch'Rihan is to Romulus. And if you haven't read that series as Star Trek fan, I highly recommend it.


	3. Unwell

It has been one week since Mandana’s rescue. One week since the birth of her son, who has become the glue that keeps her shattered soul together. One week since she learned of her husband's death, at the hands of the very Federation that was supposed to save their people. One week since she learned the awful truth of why he was killed, and one week since she discovered the truth about where she is.

She sits in the temporary quarters given to her on this starship, a vessel by the name of  _Enterprise_. Space is short on the newly-christened flagship of the Federation, but they couldn't very well keep her in sickbay indefinitely. So she was thrown into this closet of a room, hardly big enough to stretch her arms in. The furnishings are simple; a bed in the center, a desk with a computer terminal in an alcove off to the side, a bureau built into the far wall. There are some luxuries as well, found in few other rooms onboard the ship (or so she was told): a personal 'fresher, a quarter of the size of the actual room, but private nonetheless, and a small porthole just above the bed, giving Mandana a clear view of the stars, which at present are distorted by  _Enterprise_ 's warp field. Currently, that porthole is hidden behind a thick curtain. Being on a starship is bad enough, but she doesn't need to see the endless, airless abyss they glide through. The entire space looks and smells brand new, despite its antique design.

Not so antique in this era, though. Of all the information she has been spoon-fed by Jim Kirk and his officers, the fact that she is one hundred and fifty years in the past is one of the more difficult things to swallow. The rational part of her mind tells her it's impossible, but everything she sees around her is evidence of their claim. The archaic sick bay, the bulky computers, the vintage Federation uniforms. Perhaps most glaring is the state of the Star Empire. Reports she has managed to glean from the Federation Interwebs are like holotexts of Rihannsu history from her academic days. She is indeed one hundred and fifty standard years in the past. Many would see this as a good thing. Her home is alive and well, flourishing on the other side of the cold space known as the Neutral Zone. Mandana admits, she did feel overwhelming joy when she first saw the fuzzy pictures of the Eisn system in the databanks of the  _Enterprise_ 's computers. But then, those same reports drove it home that it is not the ch'Rihan she knew. The progress that will happen in a century and a half is all but erased, and, should she return to the first planet of Eisn, she would be an alien among her own people.

That's where the Federation is planning to send Mandana, she has no doubt. At the moment this great starship is enroute to the nearest starbase, which is identified by a series of numbers and letters that mean little to her. There, an important official from Starfleet (a being whose name and title also mean little to her) will decide her fate. She plans on making the fact that she does not want to return to ch'Rihan, or any other Rihannsu world, very plain. Not only would the politics of the Empire make her a fish out of water, but the only employment she would be able to find without the backing of a powerful House (or any House at all) would be as a servant, or a slave, with the possibility of her son being sold away from her frighteningly real. The thought is repulsive, and she would rather make a home among the thousands of Federation species than become a bond-servant on ch’Rihan—not that the Federation will likely be an option to build a home, thanks to the actions taken against them by Mandana’s late husband.

Nero was thrown back in time as well, though much farther than the tiny evac shuttle she was in. And in the year or so before her arrival, Nero (a man who never once raised his voice to her in the many years they were married) became a mass murderer, destroyed countless starships, and used black hole technology to devour the planet Vulcan. That he would turn against the Federation is hard enough to grasp, but that he managed to destroy an entire planet is impossible for Mandana to wrap her mind around. When Captain Kirk told her about the atrocities her husband— _her_   _husband—_ had committed, she could see his eyes calculating her reaction, no doubt wondering if Mandana was of the same mindset as Nero. At the time she could only stare at him in shock and disbelief, completely unamused by what could only be a bad joke. She only accepted the truth once evidence (the bits that weren't top secret) was shown: the image of a Rihannsu, with his head shaved and marked with the typical tattoos of mourning, and dark brooding eyes Mandana knew so well; a wicked-looking ship outfitted with long, bizarre attachments that, at its heart, was recognizable as her husband's familiar mining vessel; and lastly, the horrifying (and only recently declassified) image of a full-sized planet disappearing into a singularity, filmed courtesy of a shaky aft-mounted camera on the  _Enterprise_ 's hull. Once it finally sank in that those pictures were real, those events had happened, and that her husband was to blame for it all, she broke down. Again. She’d been doing that a lot lately.

Her reaction satisfied Kirk enough, and seemed to put to rest any suspicions they might have had that she was plotting the destruction of more inhabited worlds. Doctor McCoy, who was against revealing all this to Mandana in the first place, gave his captain an earful (using many words that the intradermal translator refused to render). On one hand she agreed with the doctor; she’d just lost her own planet, she didn't need to hear that her husband had gone postal and obliterated another one so soon after. This kind of excitement wasn't exactly healthy in her current shaky medical condition. On the other hand, she would have hated them for keeping the truth from her for any length of time. She did regain her composure rather quickly, and after another day of observation in sickbay, she was moved to the closet quarters.

That was eight days ago—on ch'Rihan, weeks are ten days long. The seven days' system will take some getting used to. She has had very limited contact with the personnel on the ship in that time. Other than the occasional short jaunt to sick bay for some check-up or another, she has confined herself to her room. The captain and his other officers tell her she is free to walk around the  _Enterprise_ (within reason), but she’s sure it's just a common courtesy. Secretly they are relieved that the wife of a mass-murderer is keeping to her private quarters.

In this closet-space she has had plenty of time to think, and to sleep, and to grieve. There's been a lot of grieving, not a lot of sleeping. She wonders how long it will be before she’ll be able picture Nero or ch'Rihan without bursting into tears. Just to close her eyes brings horrible images to mind: ch'Rihan reduced to spacedust, Vulcan swallowed whole, Nero with the blood of thousands, of  _millions_ , on his hands. With such pictures dancing behind closed eyes, it is hard to get any amount of rest. And as she gets progressively more weary from lack of sleep, the images get more and more bizarre. To keep them at bay, she thinks. And in the span of this tenday, her thoughts have revolved around one question:  _Why_?

She feels like the pawn of some cosmic theatrical tragedy, performing for the twisted enjoyment of the Elements. Where have They been in all of this? Why is Mandana the object of their sick games, and allowed to live while the rest of her race perished in Fire? She wonders again why ch'Rihan was destroyed in the first place. Why didn't the Vulcans follow through with their promise to save their world? Is that why her husband turned on the very organization whose praises he'd happily sang back home? This course of thinking naturally brings Mandana back to grieving, which she’s had just about enough of. To break the repetitive cycle, she puts her mind to something productive: solving the issue of what is to become of she and her son.

Where in this universe they’ll go, she has no idea. But, much as she is frightened and repulsed by the idea (the opinions of her husband and father were not necessarily shared by her), she feels the only option open to her is the Federation. They have a reputation among the galaxy for welcoming diversity among their members; other governments are not so accepting of other races. Mandana only hopes they will look past her relationship to a war criminal.

To prepare herself for the plea for asylum Mandana plans to make upon reaching the starbase, she turns from her grieving and her thinking and sets to work mining the  _Enterprise_ 's databases for any useful information that might help her current situation. Despite being the daughter of a politician who made it his business to become fluent in Federation policies, she knows next to nothing about this alliance of hundreds of alien species. So far, her efforts have not been fruitful, mostly due to the incomplete translation matrix onboard. Many of the words are not rendered by the in-ship text translator, making it difficult to discern even the topics of many articles. In the back of her mind, Mandana makes a mental note to brush up on her Standard. If she is to be living among these people (she shudders involuntarily), their incomplete translators will quickly become inadequate for every day living.

After a long, unsuccessful search of  _Enterprise_ 's in-ship computers, she moves to the Federation interwebs, and even then all she manages to discover is the Federation's fascination with trivial news. The web pages are filled with stories of intergalactic celebrities, disappearing house pets, and other unrelated and entirely uninteresting garble, occasionally interrupted with a small bit on politics and economics of the different worlds. And nearly all of it is unrenderable by the translator.

As Mandana is scrolling through the media, an article catches her eye that is (what a surprise) not sufficiently translated, which is ironic considering the topic. The title, one among millions, announces the discovery of a lone Romulan woman deep within Federation space.

She leans back in her seat, a wry smile twisting her lips, positive that the 'Romulan' they refer to is her, and stares at the article for a while. It is not that she is curious to read about herself. While she was hardly in the limelight on ch'Rihan, being the daughter of a Senator with opinions like Nyril did catch the eye of the public media. Being in the news is no large shock for her. No, she stares at this article because the politics behind it are some that even she can relate to. In her situation, an article with anything even remotely familiar is a welcome sight. At this point in her race's history, and even up to the time of its destruction, Rihannsu rarely dared to cross the Neutral Zone. A crossing of that cold space would be just as remarkable in Mandana’s time as it is now. Her father was pushing to open even tentative communications with the Federation when ch'Rihan was—

She doesn’t follow that thought to its conclusion, quickly deactivating the computer screen before the waterworks can begin. Perhaps familiar is not as welcome as she thought. She leans forward, letting her head fall into her hands, feeling a stinging sensation at the corners of her eyes and willing the tears not to fall. It is at this exact moment that one of the aforementioned bizarre images pops into her mind: Nero and Nyril, bounding across a snow-covered Neutral Zone hand in hand, carrying a large sign between them that reads "We Come In Peace.”

She decides she has finally had enough and makes for sick bay, leaving her sleeping son in the cradle by the desk, and praying Doctor McCoy will have a sleep aid to ensure a restful, dreamless sleep.


	4. Dreaming Of You

She steps out of her quarters into the stark white corridors of the Enterprise. Even in the ship's early morning, they glow blindingly bright. The effect is unnerving. Mandana tucks a stray hair behind her ear and hurries off down the hall, keeping her eyes down. She passes many personnel on her way to sickbay and she feels their suspicious, untrusting eyes on her. That, too, is unnerving, though quite expected. She is one of the enemy. She must be watched.

It takes only a few moments to reach sickbay, and Mandana lets out a breath she didn't realize she’d been holding as the doors swish shut behind her. Her heart is pounding in her side.

_Dear Elements, if this is how I react every time I am near an alien, how will I ever live among them?_ she wonders.

She tells herself that she is more on edge because she’s on a starship. Were Mandana not on a vessel lightyears from the nearest solid ground, she would not be so tightly wound.

"Can I help you, miss?" asks a nurse she hasn’t met before, stepping out from one of sickbay's adjoining sections. He wears the regulation white uniform.

Mandana opens her mouth to ask for Doctor McCoy, but remembers what time it is and realizes he's probably not on duty at this hour.

"I haven't been sleeping well. Do you have anything I could take for that?" Mandana says instead. The nurse stares at her for half a second, looking her over. His stare is comparable to those questioning, suspicious looks she received in the _Enterprise's_ halls. Finally he nods.

"Of course," he answers curtly. "Come with me." Mandana follows him into an adjoining pod, where he opens a drawer filled with hypo capsules. He shuffles them around, lifting them up and checking the labels, until he finds the right one. Mandana stands off to the side, uncomfortable in his presence.

"I thought I heard someone come in," Doctor McCoy says as he strides into the room, giving her a friendly smile. "I'll take it from here, Nurse." Mandana is grateful for his interruption, and mildly surprised that he is on duty. She’d seen him just hours before.

The nurse nods at him, sets down the capsule he’d pulled from the drawer, and with a last look in her direction, briskly walks out of the pod.

"Shouldn't you be off duty?" Mandana asks impulsively, then snaps her mouth shut. McCoy picks up where the nurse left off, snapping the capsule into a hypo.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" McCoy answers, smiling so she knows he's joking.

"That's why I'm here," Mandana says, and leans against the bio bed behind her.

Of all the humans aboard the vessel, McCoy is the least uncomfortable to be around. Perhaps it is because he is the one she spends the most time with. He stopped giving her distrustful looks her first night in sickbay. Strangely enough, she finds herself enjoying his company. Then again, maybe she just likes spending time in a place of healing. During her pregnancy on ch'Rihan, she frequented small clinics rather than the large medical complex. It's been so long since she’s stepped into a large-scale medical facility. She didn't realize how much she’d missed it.

"I'm on call for the next few nights. Means I stay here for thirty hours, then I'm off duty for a whole twenty-four. We have rotations. Every doctor and nurse staffing this sick bay goes on call at least once a month."

Mandana tilts her head and arches an eyebrow. "And your sick bay is more efficient this way?" It seems to her that having a doctor work for thirty hours would decrease their productivity and make them more prone to mistakes. "On call" is something unheard of on ch'Rihan.

"Well, if we didn't go on-call, the sick bay'd be understaffed. See, we're still a pretty new vessel. Not all our permanent personnel have come aboard. And besides, it's a good idea to have someone in sick bay all the time. That way there's always someone who knows what's going on, instead of a gap between shifts."

"Oh," is all Mandana says in response. There is a momentary lull in conversation.

"How's Oren?" McCoy suddenly breaks the silence and steps across the room, hypo in hand. Mandana eyes the capsule, her eyes flitting over the label.

"He is well. I am envious of his ability to sleep for long hours. Is that doxylamine?" She nods toward the hypo in his hand, hovering over her arm. She cannot read the text, but the molecular graphic on the capsule is universal. "Do you have anything stronger?"

McCoy's mouth lifts into a smile. "Yes, but you don't need anything stronger. This'll work just fine."

She shifts her arm so the hypo is not directly above it. "Doctor, that dosage wouldn't knock out an infant. It's far too mild."

"Really," he sounds amused, and rolls back on one heel. "Where'd you get your medical degree?"

"Rihannsu Imperial Academy of Medicine," Mandana answers matter-of-factly. He blinks and stands up straight, clearly not expecting an affirmative answer.

"Well," Doctor McCoy glances at the hypo in his hand, then looks back up at her. He wears a funny expression, a mix of suspicion and disbelief on his face.

"Try soporaline," she suggests, hoping the translator sufficiently renders the word. "The regular dose for an adult Rihanha is 250 milliliters, but seeing as I have a child to care for, my dose should be half that."

McCoy looks mildly surprised, and she believes that she has, for the most part, convinced him that she is indeed a doctor. He takes the hypo of doxylamine and returns it to the medicine drawer, albeit a bit hesitantly.

"You're closer to your Vulcan cousins than I thought," he says as he replaces the capsule in the hypo. "125 milliliters of this is a regular dose for a Vulcan."

Mandana nods. "That sounds about right."

He returns to her side and she obediently offers him the underside of her arm.

"So you're an expert on Vulcan physiology as well?" he asks.

'Doctor McCoy, in the time I come from, communications between Vulcans and Rihannsu are considerably more open. At least, in the field of medical science. It is where our two peoples find the most common ground," She looks upwards at the ceiling. "Politics are another matter entirely."

She feels the slight sting of the hypo in the crook of her elbow, and McCoy straightens up. His previously very expressive face is now flat. He catches Mandana watching and offers a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Well then, Doctor t'Karil. You're free to go. Sleep well."

She thanks him and leaves the sickbay, puzzling over his reaction to her explanation. It is not until she is back in her own quarters, hovering on the fringes of sleep, that she realizes she referred to ch'Rihan in the present tense. Thankfully, darkness overtakes her before the tears return, and she drifts off into her first restful sleep since ch'Rihan's destruction.

* * *

_Nero pulled through, of course. On paper, his reason for survival was an abnormally strong immune system. But according to his sister, Adyrra, he didn't die simply because he knew he_ couldn't _die. In the weeks after the operation that saved his life, I snuck Adyrra up to Nero's room countless times after-hours. It was during these visits I learned much about House Karil. Often the woman talked to her injured brother as though I weren't in the room, bringing up topics I felt I wasn't supposed to hear, but she made no effort to hide. And when he was awake (towards the end of his hospital stay, that was quite often), he didn't try to correct her (though Nero didn't ignore me as Adyrra did during these visits; in my efforts to look like I wasn't eavesdropping, I saw his eyes flick my direction on more than one occasion)._

_The family had a rocky past, and an even rockier recent history. They grew up on a resource planet called Ulauri, at least a light-week from ch'Rihan. What the main resource of the planet was I had no idea, but from the professions chosen by the s'Karil siblings—he, a miner, and she, a geophysics teacher—I guessed it had something to do with rock. At one point, the family had been quite large and prosperous. Theirs was one of the few Houses rooted on a resource planet that did not have Ship-Clan ancestors._

_And, though the exact tragedy that decimated s'Karil's numbers was never named, I got the feeling it was similar to what had befallen Nero. Over half the family (cousins, aunts, uncles, and other siblings) had died, and the fortune they'd amassed over several generations was suddenly lost._

_Left with little other choice, Nero and Adyrra both left Ulauri and came to ch'Rihan where, after a mandatory period of service in the Fleet, they became quite successful in their respective careers. And then this bit of misfortune had left Nero, one of the few remaining males in House Karil, near death. The lack of family presence the night Nero was brought in suddenly made sense, as did the need for him to survive. House Karil was in very real danger of dying out._

_But, by the grace of the Elements, Nero made a full recovery in the span of thirty four days, though extensive physical therapy was needed if he ever wanted to be a completely mobile Rihanha again. Unfortunately for Nero, this meant the next mining tour his ship took would be without him. The physical therapy plan I had prescribed for him would keep him in Mhiessan for a good four months._

_It was not my job to inform Nero of the treatment. After saving the life of one considered a lost cause, I'd gained considerable respect in the eyes of the other doctors on staff at the medical complex. I was now seen as someone who deserved to work there, instead of having caught a free ride to an expensive profession on my father's influence. However, the miraculous healing of Nero did not mean everyone at the complex staff accepted me. There were those, mainly technicians and nurses, who had aspired to become doctors but funds and House influence kept them from achieving their goal. They saw me as a slap in their faces. I doubted they'd ever see me as just another of the doctors. They went out of their way to make life miserable for me at the complex, and I was content to give it right back. Sometimes without meaning to._

_The technician I assigned to relay the news to Nero of his temporary medical leave from work did so grudgingly. The task was not one dreaded, like taking on a mortally wounded patient. It was merely one I didn't have time for, and something he didn't want to do simply because I was the one ordering him to do it. Nevertheless, the tech delivered the news to a soon-to-be-released Nero, telling the miner that he would be taking a mandatory medical leave from the Mining Guild for at least four months. Needless to say, Nero didn't take the news well. I learned that he'd bloodied the face of the tech who'd relayed the news. The tech escaped with a broken nose, and I felt a small surge of gratitude towards Nero for the small bit of indirect revenge. The incident set his release back another few days, but that was the only consequence he received._

_After his release, I thought that would have been the last I saw of House Karil. I could not have been more wrong. Three days later one of the nurses informed me he'd dropped by the complex, asking for me. Though she didn't say outright what his motivation was, the mischievous glitter in her eyes and the barely suppressed smile on her lips told me what I needed to know. I remembered back to the nights Adyrra and he spent talking, the way his eyes would seek me out in the furthest corner of the room._

_I ignored the message. But every other time he entered the medical complex for the appointed physical therapy treatment, Nero made sure to seek me out. Always I managed to make up an excuse to avoid him, but somehow he knew exactly where I'd be at any given time. In desperation, I switched my hours at the complex from a day shift to a night shift. I hoped the miner would get my message that I was not interested in whatever proposal he had to offer, but I'd underestimated the strength of Nero's stubbornness. He either couldn't take a hint, or was too prideful to quit. He kept coming._

_In one last attempt to get the miner off my tail, I took a day off from work and chose to run the weekly errands myself, as opposed to chartering the servants of my apartment complex to do them for me. The time spent in the market place of Mhiessan was relaxing, though there was hardly a corner I turned that I didn't expect Nero to be leaning nonchalantly against the side of a building or vendor kiosk. He seemed to anticipate my movements so thoroughly that it wouldn't have surprised me. But the chores went uninterrupted, and with the daily work done I retreated to my apartment for a quiet night. "Apartment" was really the wrong term to describe my living quarters. It implied small, and plain, and, to an extent, poor. My home was quite the opposite. It stretched over one entire floor, a large flat covered in fine carpet and hung with expensive replicas of famous Rihannsu art. Lavishly upholstered furniture dotted the rooms. To many, the real selling point would have been the the stunning view from the windows, offering a magnificent panorama of Mhiessan, the mountains that surrounded it, and to the west, an unobstructed look at the ocean._

_Not to me. Every curtain in the apartment was drawn. The only flat available in this building had been on the fourth floor, and that was far too high for my liking. I didn't want to freeze up with irrational fear every time I passed a window, so I blocked the view and pretended I wasn't twelve meters off of the ground. And those windows remained tightly shut, as there had been no reason to open them since moving in._

_That night was a calm one. I was curled on my sleep couch, reading a fictional text in the soft light of a single glow lamp. I was so engrossed in the story that at first I paid no mind to the quiet tapping on my window. I thought it was just rain. But as the tapping continued, I remembered it was the fifth month in ch'Rihan's thirteen-month year, and precipitation in this season, while not unheard of, was so unusual the public news media would have made sure to mention it in the tenday forecast._

_As the strange tapping persisted, I turned off my reader and looked up at the couchroom window, the one with the brilliant view of the city skyline. The tapping came in groups of three: tap tap tap, pause, tap tap tap, pause, and so on. I frowned, dropped my reader on the couch, and crossed to the window, debating whether or not to open the curtain. The tapping was too regular to be a shower of unpredicted weather, but I was four stories in the air and couldn't figure out what else it could be._

_So, with the tapping not ceasing and my curiosity overcoming my absurd fear of heights, I threw open the window. And screamed at the shape that jumped into my apartment_ through _that window._

_"You are an impossible woman to get a hold of," Nero said, straightening out of a crouch and glancing around the apartment. His look of mild frustration turned to one of appreciation. "You have a lovely home."_

_I floundered for words, pressed as close to the apartment wall as I could get without becoming a part of the wallpaper. "What in the names of Fire and Earth are you doing here?" I shouted at last, narrowing my eyes into a vicious glare. "Get out!"_

_He turned a calm eye to me, appearing totally relaxed in the middle of my couchroom, with no obvious intention of leaving. "I just got here."_

_At that moment I was remembering the miner's violent reaction to the news that he wouldn't be returning to his ship for its next tour, and wondered just how mentally stable he was. Surely no sane Rihanha would go around bursting into people's apartments unannounced, and through a window, no less! My surprise at his sudden appearance quickly turned to fear._

_"I believe the accident affected your head more than I initially thought, tr'Karil," I snarled, keeping my voice angry as I straightened up and pulled my shoulders back. I was tempted to use the man's firstname, highly unorthodox and bordering on insult when used between barely acquainted Rihanha, but I refrained. Elements only knew he'd take such an action the wrong way. "I am not familiar with the customs of_ your _people_ ― _" I had not meant to use such a blatantly arrogant expression, but my tongue slipped under the stress of the situation. I pressed my lips tightly together, hoping I hadn't angered the miner._

_Nero raised his eyebrows. "My people?" he said, and laughed. "I am unsure whether you refer to Rihannsu employed in the Mining Guild, or those who have immigrated from resource worlds, but it makes little difference. Our customs are not so different."_

_"Really," I said bluntly, casting a furtive glance at the main entrance to the apartment, past Nero's shoulder. He showed no signs of leaving, and I would just as soon not be left alone with a man of questionable sanity. I began to inch towards the door in the most inconspicuous way possible. "As far as I know, jumping in to people's homes via a fourth story window is not a common practice on any world in the Imperium, unless the one enters with intent of theft. Now get out of my apartment, or I will scream, have you arrested, and sent to rot in an Imperial prison cell."_

_Nero smiled at that. "I would like it to be noted that this is not the normal course of action, nor is it the preferred option. But it was impossible to get a hold of you at your place of work. "_

_"And so you thought that the best way to talk to me face-to-face was to scale the wall of my apartment building and jump in through the window. There is such a thing as a 'door,' tr'Karil." I told him, taking another small step towards the exit. "In any case, I thought I'd made my position perfectly clear. I am not interested."_

_"Interested?" he seemed genuinely confused for a split second. "Is it wrong for a patient to see his doctor?"_

_My glare deepened, and my mouth twisted into an exasperated frown. "You ceased to be my patient, under my care, when you were discharged from the intensive care wing. I am a busy woman and do not take responsibility for outpatients. If an appointment was so important to you, there are hundreds of clinics in Mhiessan—" I took another step as I spoke. This time Nero shifted his body, effectively putting himself between me and the door. If I wanted to get out, I'd have to slip past a seven foot Rihannha whose mental stability was in question. I suppressed an irritated and somewhat fearful expression and wondered if now was the time to scream. I opened my mouth to do just that, but he cut me off, talking a bit louder and faster than was needed._

_"But I needed to see_ you _. After all but resurrecting me, I felt it necessary to thank you in person."_

_"So you thank me by breaking and entering," I said flatly, my eyes locking with his. Up until that moment, I had been unsure of his intentions. I only assumed he meant me harm. But when our eyes met, something in them made me believe the miner's words. Perhaps it was the naivety there. For a man who had to be well into his thirties, he possessed an innocence I found…shocking. I was absolutely positive then that he wouldn't hurt me. The feeling was strange. But I still wanted him out of my flat._

_For the few seconds that I stood frozen, fully understanding the sincerity behind his words, Nero realized I was still not charmed by his unannounced arrival. He bowed low to me, holding the position a few seconds longer than I would have thought necessary. And, in a ridiculous gesture that was far too formal for the situation, took my hand in his and pressed my fingers to his forehead. I felt heat rise in my cheeks and could imagine the dark shade of green they had turned, for a display such as this was often reserved for those much higher on the political food chain. A Praetor, or an actual Senator. Not the daughter of such dignitaries. I was left speechless._

_Nero straightened after five seconds. Those five seconds had stretched to an eternity and beyond. Then, with a crooked smile, he released my hand and jumped back out the window. Involuntarily I rushed to the sill, momentarily forgetting I was deathly afraid of heights, and peered down into the inky black night. I hated to admit I was curious to see how Nero had scaled the wall of the apartment complex._

_But by the time my eyes adjusted to the darkness outside, the man was already gone, having disappeared under the canopy of trees in the complex's gardens. I frowned and withdrew my head back into the apartment, then shut the window and latched it firmly. If my fourth story window proved so easy to get in and out of, that could become a problem in the future. I highly doubted any patient of mine would go through the trouble of hailing a ride here at such an hour and scaling my wall simply to say “thank you" in an incredibly overblown way. I had not seen the last of him._

_Trying to shake off the sudden feeling of uneasiness, I threw the curtain shut over the window and retired to my couch. I needed a nice, long sleep before tackling this problem. I'd deal with it all tomorrow, and that would include a nice, long talk with the complex's head of security._

* * *

Jim Kirk sits in his personal quarters, staring at the weathered face of a man in his sixties. The Starfleet officer on the computer screen wears a stiff grey and white uniform bearing admiral's stripes over a pair of broad shoulders. He is balding, with only a crown of grey-white hair encircling the back of his head. The man looks the part of every admiral in any movie Jim has ever seen, right down to the hard blue eyes that glitter with the fire of someone much younger. Even after a good year and a half of dealing directly with the man, Jim still squirms in his seat when held under Admiral Dessel's stare.

He forces himself to sit still, which, at this hour, is easier than usual. The _Enterprise's_ chronometer is synched with that of the Federation capitol, established in Paris, France. One o'clock in the morning there is the same as one o'clock in the morning on the ship. But, at Starfleet headquarters in San Francisco, it is only five in the afternoon. Convenient for Dessel, exhausting for Jim.

"I'm sorry to be contacting you at this hour," the admiral says in a voice that gives no hint whatsoever as to his supposed remorse, "but I needed to talk to you personally as soon as possible. Tell me, who all knows the supposed origins of the Romulan?"

"Only my chief surgeon and I," Jim answers. Dessel grunts in response.

"Keep it that way. We don't need one more reason for people to be suspicious of her," he says.

Ever since the Earth-Romulan war years ago, the Federation has been untrusting of any and every Romulan. Nero's actions against Vulcan only ingrained those suspicions deeper in the minds of Federation citizens. And though doings of the Romulans are controlled by the minority (politicians and, in certain cases, rogue miners), everyone seems to believe that  _all_ Romulans will happily commit such atrocities against them. Though Jim is still partial to this prejudice, he can't see Mandana anywhere near as ruthless as her husband. Watching her burst into tears after delivering the news of Nero's fate convinced him she did not fit the common stereotype of her kind.

However, Bones is the only other person on _Enterprise_ who shares his sentiment about Mandana. Jim fully agrees with the admiral about keeping her relationship to Nero a secret. But he has already decided to do that. Dessel contacting him at one in the morning, ship's time, to deliver this order is completely unnecessary.

"Admiral, with all due respect, you didn't call me to discuss default protocol surrounding a refugee, when a representative will be seeing me in less than two days to discuss the exact same thing. What's this about?" Jim’s last word is distorted by a large yawn that he is unable to stifle. Dessel's thin lip twitches upward into an amused smirk that fades quickly into a straight face. He straightens in his chair and clears his throat.

"As you know, since Vulcan's destruction, the Romulans have, essentially, backed off. Fewer patrols along the Neutral Zone—along the Trianguli quadrant, they've all but abandoned their outposts. Subspace has also fallen silent on their side, and what tidbits we do pick up are easily decoded and contain no noteworthy intel. They may as well be conversing the weather. Our sources within the Star Empire have given us similar results: mindless chatter between the Senate and Praetorate about interplanetary politics, economics, etcetera. No mention of the Neutral Zone, or the Federation, or the Klingons, for that matter."

Jim feels his exhaustion ebb a bit. The Romulans have had their eyes on the Trianguli quadrant for some time. It would give them a tactical advantage over the Federation, should war ever break out between the two parties again. That they would abandon it after years of pursuit seems odd. The Neutral Zone is also a sore spot for them. It’s common in everyday conversations. That they would stop mentioning it completely raises red flags. "Sounds like they're trying to appear as unthreatening as possible, and prove that they didn't support Nero's actions," Kirk says. Dessel nods.

"Starfleet's thoughts exactly. But it's not in a Romulan's nature to just withdraw and lay low."

"You think they're are planning something?"

"Yes." Dessel responds, and leans forward, lacing his fingers on the glass desk before him. "But, until just a week ago, we didn't have any proof."

The admiral pauses here, staring intently through the screen at him. Jim frowns slightly, but says nothing. Dessel continues.

"Thirteen days ago, a cloaked vessel crossed the Neutral Zone into Federation space. The cloaking device faltered for just a fraction of a second, but one of our patrol vessels got it on the scanners. At the speed it was traveling, in the direction that it was traveling, it seems like it would have been very close to the site of the scorched evac shuttle."

Jim’s frown deepens. He takes a moment to process the admiral’s words before responding. "You think Mandana is an agent of the Star Empire." The idea that she could be an Imperial agent is so laughable he has to bite down hard on my tongue to keep from scoffing. "Admiral, may I remind you of the state we found her in? Injured, dehydrated, heavily pregnant...she doesn't sound like a candidate for a Tal Shiar agent."

Dessel leans back in his chair. "The Romulans are crafty. They've used better disguises in the past. From the images and descriptions of the shuttle you sent the Fleet, it looks like the damage could have been inflicted by a third-party vessel. It's not necessarily the aftershock of a supernova."

Jim is already shaking his head. Perhaps it's because he rescued her, held her hand, saw the sincerity in her eyes when she told McCoy and himself everything, but Dessel's story holds about as much water as a bucket made of air. Jim opens his mouth to protest further, but Dessel holds up a hand to stop him.

"We can't prove anything yet. This evidence is merely circumstantial. We'll need to get a better look at the shuttle before we draw any conclusions. We have assigned the U.S.S.  _Carter_ the job of further investigation,” the admiral finishes.

"Well, thank you for that, admiral. I will certainly keep an eye on Mandana,” Jim says, almost testily, reaching forward to end the transmission. Being kept from his bunk to hear such a laughable accusation from the top dogs at Starfleet has rubbed him the wrong way.

Dessel eyes the captain, and Jim waits for some sort of reprimand, but it doesn't come. The admiral only nods and says, "Do that. And report anything unusual. Dessel out."

Dessel's image winks out, replaced by the Federation logo: two olive branches encircling a group of stars. Jim reaches forward and turns the screen off, just as the intership comm beeps. He suppresses an irritated hiss and flips the unit back on, audio only. He hopes this conversation doesn't last long.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk," Spock's voice floats through the speakers.

"Kirk here. What is it, Spock?" Jim asks, suppressing yet another yawn.

"I am sorry to disturb you at this hour, Captain, but we are picking up a distress call from the planet Natala," he says in an inflectionless tone.

"What?" Jim blinks and looks up. After their homeworld's destruction, the remaining individuals of the Vulcan race settled on an arid desert planet located by Ambassador Spock (known mostly as the Ambassador, so as to avoid confusion with the _Enterprise’_ s first officer). Hearing of Natala's distress call takes Jim back a year ago, to a filled auditorium in Starfleet Academy's Nimitz hall, where admiral Barnett delivered the news that Vulcan itself had asked for help...

"...some sort of grain-eating native insect," Spock is saying as Jim comes out of his reverie. "As of yet, they have been unable to synthesize an antivenin to counteract the effects of the insect's potent toxin. The call is low priority, but it is not too far off our current course. It would affect our ETA at Starbase Seven by three hours, but we are the closest starship in the quadrant." his voice sounds calm as ever, but Jim knows Spock. His decision to stay in Starfleet instead of going with his father to Natala to help establish a society there has haunted him. This cry for help, no matter how minor the actual issue may be, will eat away at him.

"Then set a course for Natala and inform Starfleet of our course change. The representative at Starbase Seven can wait three hours,” Jim says. There is a pause.

"Thank you, Captain," Spock answers. Jim wonders if the note of gratitude he hears in Spock’s monotone voice is a trick of his tired ear.

"Yeah. I'm turning in now. Wake me when we get there," Jim tells him, and switches the comm off before he has a chance to respond.


	5. Hero

It is the sound of her son's cry that jerks Mandana awake. No vivid nightmares, no black dreams. How refreshing. She sits up in the darkness and stretches her arms over her head, feeling the tension of the past many days leave her body. She feels…rested.

Oren's persistent wail chases the last of the sleep from her bones. Mandana stands and crosses to his makeshift crib, tucked away in the alcove of the room. She picks up the screaming infant, holding him close to her chest, and rocks him back and forth. His cry is neither wet, nor hungry. A bad dream, perhaps? She sighs.

"Have the nightmares found you, too?" she whispers to him, gently rubbing his back. The infant's cries gradually subside and he snuggles closer to her. What good fortune he has to forget such terrors so quickly. Mandana holds him for a while, waiting for him to fall back asleep, but Oren has other plans.

Now wide awake, he reaches up and grabs a lock of her hair, then promptly stuffs it in his mouth. Despite the dim light, she can see him smiling broadly up at her, his brilliant eyes shining playfully. It is obvious he isn't going to let her go back to bed.

"I guess we've both slept long enough," Mandana coos, touching his nose with her finger. The infant giggles, a warm, bubbly, beautiful sound.

"Lights," she says, and the fluorescents overhead flicker on, bathing the room in soft white light. She returns to her bed and sits on the mattress's edge. How long did she sleep, Mandana wonders? At least a few hours. Surely by now it must be morning on the starship  _Enterprise_.

No sooner has the thought passed through her mind then the screen atop her desk flickers to life, displaying the face of a young human in command gold. Mandana stands, Oren still in her arms, and approaches the computer.

"Attention all hands, this is a mission update," the young officer says. His accent is so thick that the translator has difficulty rendering his words. She twists the screen to face her and turns up the volume, curious about the nature of the report.

"The  _Enterprise_  will be making a short detour to the Vulcan colony of Natala, to assist them with a local life form that has been giving them trouble. We will not deviate far from our present course and should be back underway in a matter of hours. Details may—"

Mandana flips off the screen, unimpressed by the mundane report. The effort to decipher the computer's poor translation does not seem worth it for the information she would glean. She’s not sure what she was hoping for, but she didn't find it. She returns all her attention to her son, content just to play with him and watch him smile.

Half an hour passes and the report is nearly gone from her mind when the ship's alert goes off. Mandana learned from the first time the  _Enterprise_  went on red alert that an infant and a wailing siren do not mix—Oren's scream rivaled the volume of the shrill klaxons—and requested of the captain that it be disabled in her quarters. The alert was merely a routine drill to keep the crew on their toes, but even if it had been a real emergency, such a keening sound was unnecessary for a refugee mother and her newborn. The warning light alone would suffice. Now, the amber beacon fills her room with a sickly light, pulsing to a bell she cannot hear.

There is something familiar about this light. Mandana remembers it. Her mind flashes back to the night of her rescue, when she had first been rushed through the  _Enterprise's_  halls. In her state of exhaustion, wracked by pain and weakened by dehydration, she did not retain much of what happened that night, and the few memories she has are a blur. One thing, however, is a constant among her foggy recollections—the amber light. Not a call to battle stations, but a medical alert.

An unpleasant feeling worms its way into her brain, a nagging sense of foreboding.  _Medical alert, local fauna, Vulcan colony._  This feeling is a long shot, but she knows it won't let her be until she proves to herself it's as ludicrous as it sounds.

Mandana sets Oren back in his crib with a mumbled promise to only be a minute. She then queues up the young officer's mission update on the desk screen. It picks up where she left off.

"—may be accessed in the mission log." His image freezes onscreen as she pauses the replay and searches for the log he referred to. She finds it without too much trouble and quickly scrolls through the detailed report. It lists the shore party the captain has picked out—himself; his first officer, Spock; Doctor McCoy; and a handful of assorted science personnel—as well as a brief summary of the trouble Natala is experiencing. The more Mandana reads, the more she realizes that her unlikely fears have been proven.

_And,_  she thinks,  _they will turn to the logical solution to this problem. The wrong solution._  She jumps out of the desk chair. She hates to leave Oren while he's awake, remembering her own horrid fear of being left alone, but lives are at stake. She darts out into the hallway, following the flashing amber lights to sickbay.

The "local life form" the officer referred to is not local to the Natala system at all. It isn't even local to Federation space. The Rihannsu called it  _ssidhwavr_ , or "tiny death". The  _ssidhwavr_  were discovered on a resource planet in the early years of the Imperium's expansion. It is a small bug, no bigger than a grain of wheat, and about the same color, too. Their venom mimics the symptoms of anaphylactic shock, a reaction found in most humanoid races. But to treat the bite like anaphylaxis rather than a virulent toxin is a death sentence. A handful of established Rihannsu colonies were lost before the doctors realized this.

The epinephrine used to treat such reactions interacts negatively with the venom, speeding up the effects rather than slowing them down, and killing the victim in minutes. An antivenin is needed to save the victim, and a sedative is administered to keep the patient stable until said antivenin arrives.

But the  _Enterprise_  doctors don't know that.

Mandana bursts through the doors into sickbay. The wide open space she knows is a hive of frenzied activity. At the back of the room, she can see a pale, shaking form lying on a bio bed, eyes closed. His face is hardly visible, but she can make out features through the controlled chaos of the swarming medical team.  _Spock_. The monitor above the Vulcan's head registers his weak, irregular heartbeat and shallow, raspy breathing. Mandana is not too late.

McCoy stands over Spock, hastily slipping a capsule into a hypo. She can't make out the label, but she would bet her life it's epinephrine.

"Doctor!" She must shout over the intense voices of the medical personnel to be heard. He looks over his shoulder at her.

"Mandana?" She’s caught him off guard. His face registers confusion, but not for long. He turns back to his work, hardly a second wasted on her. "This isn't a good time!"

She pushes her way through the nurses and grabs his arm before he can press the hypo to Spock's neck. "You can't give him that!"

He shakes her hand off and glares fiercely at her. If looks could kill, Mandana would be a pile of ash on the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Doctor, you have to listen to me,” she says in a rush. "This isn't an allergic reaction, it's the venom from the bite. I've seen it hundreds of times before. If you give him the epinephrine, he  _will_  die. A sedative will buy you time to synthesize the antivenin."

Doctor McCoy's face doesn't change as he moves to brush her aside again. He doesn't believe her. Desperate, she says the only thing she can think of to get him trust her.

"Soporaline worked fine for me," she says, praying to the Elements he'll remember what she told him in this sickbay only six hours prior. There is a tense moment of indecision on McCoy's part. The pause lasts for only two beats of Spock's racing heart, but it feels so much longer.

"Nurse, get me 125 cc's of soporaline," he barks at last, focus returning to the patient lying on the table. Nurse Chapel looks stricken.

"Doctor—"

"Just do it!" McCoy growls, setting the hypo of epinephrine on a tray beside the biobed. A few seconds later the hypo of soporaline is in his hand. The doctor hesitates for a fraction of a second and looks at Mandana from the corner of his eye, perhaps realizing what he is about to do. Then he presses the hypo to Spock's neck. The Vulcan twitches as the sedative is released. Instantly, all eyes turn to the board above Spock's head. It seems that lifetimes pass before his heart rate begins to drop and his blood pressure picks back up. Mandana releases the breath she didn't realize she’d been holding, feels the tense muscles in her body relax, and looks up at the doctor.

_It worked_. He is clearly stunned that her solution saved the life of his commanding officer. She wonders, then, if he is so surprised, why he followed her advice in the first place? The reason doesn't matter. He trusted her, and Spock will live another day because of it. That is, if they hurry and synthesize the antivenin.

McCoy is already on it, shouting more instructions into a comm beside the Vulcan's bed.

"—have that antivenin up here in ten minutes."

Mandana’s work is done. No doubt the  _Enterprise_  has a state-of-the-art chemistry lab, and will have the antitoxin up in time to save the Vulcan's life. She nods to McCoy, though she doubts he sees her through the swarm of nurses and techs and other doctors, and slips out the sickbay doors unnoticed.

She is halfway down the corridor when she hears someone call her name. Mandana turns, and sees Nurse Chapel hurrying her way.

She stops a few steps away from the Rihanha, and her smile is genuine.

"Thank you," she says. "I don't know how you knew that, but—"

"I saw many cases like it on ch'Rihan. A common sight in an emergency room," Mandana replies. Chapel looks surprised, much like McCoy did when she told him what she was a few hours ago.

"You're a doctor?" Chapel asks. Mandana nods, and the nurse continues.

"Well, that explains...that," she says, nodding back at the sickbay doors. "I've got to get back, but thank you again, so much, for saving Spock's life. Really."

Mandana recognizes the intensity in her eyes, the sincere gratitude written all over her face.  _She loves him_. Her heart aches with this realization. Will she ever reach a point where she is not reminded of her late husband everywhere she goes? Chapel has already left, hastening back to a post she probably wasn't supposed to leave.

And Mandana moves on back to her own room.

* * *

_Weeks passed, and I saw no more signs of Nero. He never sought me out at the complex anymore, nor had there been any further unannounced intrusions in to my apartment. I found I enjoyed working night shift at the medical complex, and opted to stick with my current schedule. Life went on. Seasons changed, and the rains finally came to Mhiessan, making my nightly commute to work cold and miserable. I loved the water, but the chill reminded me of frigid space and stark starship walls. The weather was uncomfortable to start with, but when the rain turned to sleet, it became wholly unpleasant._

_I traveled to and from the medical complex on the_ yhfi-ss'ue _, the predominant form of public transportation in ch'Rihan's cities. An automated system of five tubes mounted on rails carried commuters to and from the city center, operating at all hours of the day. I would have preferred a hired flitter, but they didn't run late at night or early in the morning, when my work schedule demanded them. The_ yhfi-ss'ue _got me where I needed to go; I could handle a small bit of unpleasantness._

_It was an unremarkable night—cold, wet, and windy—when I approached the station. Said station was no more than a slab of cement supported by metal struts at its four corners, set alongside the track. There were benches beneath the roof where Rihannsu waiting for transport could sit, shielded, for the most part, from the weather. Normally, there were many empty benches, as the day workers had taken an earlier tube and were now warm at home. But on this night as I approached the station, I could see most—if not all—of the benches were occupied. Rihannsu huddled together under the station roof in an attempt to stay warm and dry in light of Mhiessan's current inclement weather._

_I sighed, and my breath condensed into a cloud before my face. The rain would turn to snow soon, I had no doubt. The thought of the season's first snowfall would have excited me, normally—it had been ages since this city had seen snow—had I not been standing out in it. Other after-dark commuters, nightly regulars I often chatted with as we waited for the_ yhfi-ss'ue _to pull in, began to arrive. Realizing there was no more space beneath the cement canopy, they clustered together just outside the station and cursed whatever unfortunate event had left the small terminal so packed, all hoping a tube would show up soon and whisk the crowd away. I steeled myself against the cold and hoped right along with them._

_"There's an empty seat over here, miss," a voice informed me from beneath the station's roof. I looked up through the downpour and suppressed a groan._ Of course _Nero would be here, at this station, offering me the only empty seat beneath the shelter. And here I was, thinking optimistically (for once) that he'd given up on me. I gave him a scathing look._

_"If you don't stop following me—"_

_"Relax," he said, "I'm not following you. The evening train's just late. I already thanked you, remember?"_

_I continued to eye him distrustfully._

_"Hey, if you want to freeze to death out there, be my guest. Might be a while though. There's ice on the tracks. Every tube'll run late tonight."_

_This man infuriated me, and I stubbornly set my jaw and crossed my arms over my chest in a vain effort to keep out the cold. I had my mind set on not taking the seat he offered. But as time passed, the sleet turned to snow, the wind picked up speed, and still the tube did not come. Finally, I'd had enough. I swallowed my pride and sat down next to Nero. The bench was so packed our legs touched; I did my best not to notice._

_I expected a victorious smirk or comment from Nero, but the miner said nothing. In fact, he ignored me completely. That was fine by me._

_More time passed; the people under the roof grew restless, many of them using personal readers to call home or work and inform their families or employers that they were going to be late. I debated whether or not to call the medical complex with Nero sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with me._

_Then I realized how paranoid and stupid I was being. Sure, it'd been unnerving how he'd pursued me, but since that night in my apartment, I hadn't seen any sign of him, and that incident had been over a month ago. He was acting completely normal now. If it weren't for him leaping into my couchroom—_

_"Is it common for you to risk imprisonment just to say 'thank you'?" I asked him. Nero turned to me, looking mildly surprised that I'd initiated conversation._

_"It's not every day you're brought back to life. I couldn't just let that go."_

_"So you decided to stalk me."_

_He snorted. "It was your physical therapy plan. I just dropped by the front desk and asked for you whenever I showed up."_

_"You knew where I lived. You had to have followed me home at some point."_

_"One of the nurses at the desk gave me your address."_

_"What?!" I whirled around to look at him, fixing him with an intense look. "They just gave it away!? To_ you _?"_

_"Yeah, I didn't even have to ask. She just outright gave it to me," he met my stare. "I got the feeling she didn't like you very much."_

_My mood turned black at this enlightening piece of information. I hadn't imagined one of the nurses would sink so low as giving out my address to strangers. Or overly thankful patients. "Do you remember who it was?" I asked, running through a list of people at the complex who hated me most. Nero just shrugged and looked towards the_ yhfi-ss'ue _track._

_"They all look the same, if you ask me. Dark hair, dark eyes, white uniform. Probably couldn't pick her out in a room of one."_

_"Well, then. It seems you aren't entirely guilty," I said, deciding there was nothing I could do about the mysterious narc. "There's still the matter of you jumping into my apartment, though. Speaking of which, how did you even get up there? It's not like you brought a ladder."_

_Nero grinned. "Not at all. There's a drainpipe beside your window."_

_"You climbed up_ that _?" I asked, picturing the thin pipe in my mind's eye and wondering whether to be scared of his ability, or impressed._

_"Wasn't a problem. The_ Narada _—my ship—has very little in the way of catwalks. Often times, to reach a trouble spot, you've got to forge your own path. I've had plenty of practice."_

_"As your former surgeon, I feel I should scold you for putting your body through so much before it was ready. That's what the physical therapy plan was for."_

_Nero looked sheepish. "In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest move, but again, you were impossible to get ahold of."_

_"I'm flattered you would put yourself at risk just to say 'thank you'," I said dryly. Nero laughed out loud._

_"And I'm glad you aren't reading too far into that anymore," he answered. "Shall we start over?"_

_He held out his hand, a form of greeting we naturally suspicious Rihannsu shared with the Federation. Given our distrustful nature and our politician's tendencies to murder their fellow legislators, the gesture was meant to show that, quite literally, we had nothing up our sleeves. I smiled just slightly and took his offered hand._

_"Mandana t'Verraet," I told him, shaking it firmly. "_ Jolan tru _, Oren tr'Karil."_

_"_ Jolan tru _, Mandana," he returned the greeting and dropped my hand. "But please, call me Nero. Oren was my father. And my grandfather."_

_"Something wrong with the name?" I asked. He shook his head._

_"Nah. I just like to fool myself into thinking if I change my name, I'll do something original with my life. My father and his dad might as well have been clones, working with rock their whole lives," he explained. I raised an eyebrow._

_"And how's that working out for you?"_

_"Well, as you saw, it's going splendidly. Not only do I work with rock, but I work with rock_ in space. _" His voice dripped with sarcasm. I smiled._

_"It's a temporary arrangement," I told him. He laughed again._

_"That's what I said when I got the job. And now here I am, years later, not simply a miner on a ship, but_ first officer _of said ship."_

_I blinked in surprise. "First officer? But…you're, er…"_

_He looked at me from the corner of his eye. "So young?" I nodded. "Yeah. I guess rock is just in my blood. I'm a natural. As I said, this name-change is purely for my own psychological well-being. It has no basis in reality."_

_The sound of a train rumbling on its tracks nearly drowned out his last words. Both Nero and I looked up as the_ yhfi-ss'ue _glided into the station. A cheer rose up from the nearly-frozen crowd of Rihannsu. The snow was no longer blizzarding, as the wind had died down long ago, but it was coming down hard and the temperature continued to drop. Nero stood._

_"And that's my train. Good night, Mandana," he bowed to me again, not nearly as low as the time in my apartment, but still ludicrously formal for the setting. And I said so._

_"Get going," I said to him, my tone light. "You look ridiculous."_

_His smile was infectious. "Yes, ma'am," Nero replied as he straightened out of the position and hurried off to catch his train._

* * *

"I could have you court-martialed for this, Bones!" Jim shouts at his medical officer as he paces the conference room. Leonard watches him from his seat at the table, the picture of calm.

"I took her advice, and Spock is alive because of it. Is that a crime?" he asks. Jim whirls around and slaps his palms down on the table's surface.

"You didn't know it would work. You didn't know if Mandana was actually who she said she was. Maybe she's not a doctor at all! She could have  _killed_  Spock!"

"But she didn't, and if it weren't for her, Spock  _would_  be dead," Leonard says, voice calm as ever. "So would hundreds of Vulcans on Natala. She's not her husband, Jim.”

Jim stands there, staring hard at nothing, collecting his thoughts. "It was an awful big coincidence, those bugs were. How convenient it was to have a Romulan doctor onboard when a problem cropped up that only a Romulan doctor could solve."

Leonard eyes his captain suspiciously. "And your point is…?"

Dessel's call a few hours prior leaps to the forefront of Jim’s mind. He figures Leonard has every right to know about its content. "Before our course change to Natala, I received a call from Admiral Dessel. Thirteen days ago a cloaked vessel was detected crossing the Neutral Zone. According to the patrol vessel that caught the slip up, the ship's trajectory would have put it very close to where we found Mandana."

Jim’s medical offer narrows his eyes. "You're suggesting she's a spy." He does a poor job at keeping his disdain out of his voice. "How can you say that? You saw her, Jim. You listened to her. Romulans are good infiltrators, but they aren't  _that_  good. Need I remind you how we found her? Half dead and moments away from giving birth?"

Jim sighs. "I didn't believe it when I first heard it either, Bones, but now…this business with the bugs…doesn't that seem a bit too convenient to you?"

"If there are Romulans at work anywhere in here, Jim, Mandana isn't a part of it," Leonard answers matter-of-factly. "If anything, I think she's a godsend. We've been hurting with an understaffed sick bay for a while, and that Vulcan specialist we were promised still hasn't arrived. Mandana has knowledge of their unique physiology that I can't match."

"She's a Romulan, not a Vulcan. And you can't be entirely sure she is a real doctor, if all you've got to go on is her knowledge of sedatives."

"Then test her! My point is, I trust her," he explains. "If she says she's a doctor, after what she pulled in sick bay, I believe her. And I certainly don't see her fitting the profile of a Tal Shiar agent."

"The Tal Shiar do not always use agents that are aware of what they're doing. We've seen them use brainwashing before. It is entirely possible this whole thing is a trap."

"She knew knew things—things no Romulan could possibly have known—about Nero. We never released his image, or specs on his ship, or anything else other than his criminal record."

"And we have no idea what Nero did before escaping the Klingon prison planet. We don't even know how long he was there for. Maybe he went home first, who knows."

"Well," Leonard says, leaning back and crossing his arms. "If she doesn't know Nero, explain Oren."

"We have no way of proving if he actually is Nero's son—"

And here Leonard leans forward, smiling. "Ah, but we do. When the Ambassador was marooned on Delta Vega, Nero left behind supplies. Spock's death would have ruined his whole plan. Among the supplies left behind was a jacket, bearing a command insignia for an officer in the Romulan Mining Guild. It undoubtedly belonged to him. And of course, clothing is a gold mine for DNA. All the stuff left on Delta Vega was kept as evidence, even though it wasn't entirely necessary, bless you meticulous Starfleet types. It may be difficult, but not impossible, to prove Oren is indeed Nero's son, and Mandana is who she says she is."

"Even if you managed to pull that off, it wouldn't mean there isn't a connection between her and the Tal Shiar," Jim says. Leonard opens his mouth to protest again, but Jim starts talking before he has the chance. "Good grief, Bones, it's not like we're going to imprison her. We'll just send her back across the Neutral Zone, safe and sound. What would you rather we do? Keep her on the  _Enterprise_?" Jim asks him.

"It would be nice to have someone onboard who knows their way around a Vulcan's circulatory system, yes," Leonard answers. The captain stares at him in disbelief.

"Are you serious? Even if you proved Mandana  _is_  who she says she is, it'd be foolish to keep her on  _Enterprise_."

"If Starfleet believes her to be an agent, then the  _Enterprise_  would be the perfect place to keep her. We'd have a much easier time keeping track of Mandana without letting her know we were on to her. And in the meantime, she'd be an asset."

There is no derailing Bones. Jim switches tactics. "Maybe she wants to go home. Even in the future, the Federation and the Empire aren't exactly best buds. If I were her, I'd prefer to go back home rather than settle down among my enemies."

"Would you, though?" Leonard asks. "It'd be like one of us being thrown back in time to the end of the Eugenics War. Earth doesn't sound too appealing, and I doubt Romulus does to Mandana, either. We can offer her asylum; doesn't mean she has to take it. It'd just be nice to give her the option."

Jim sighs. It's still hard for him to believe that Mandana is a Romulan agent. He’s not sure about her staying aboard his ship, but he can see Leonard's point about a past home not being… _home_. It couldn't hurt to give her the option of sanctuary.

"I see your point, Bones, and I tend to agree with you. But I've got my superiors to answer to. I'll be sure to bring up the topic when we meet with the representative later," Jim assures Leonard, careful to make no other promises. "Until then, whatever medical advice Mandana gives you, please don't take it. Dismissed.”


	6. Stay Lost On Our Way Home

The space station is cold. Not cold, temperature-wise—the atmosphere is always kept at a balmy twenty degrees Centigrade, a comfortable climate for the majority of Federation species. But there is still a chill in the air. Something wrong. Something uninviting. On the _Enterprise,_ Mandana had hardly steps out of her room during her stay, and as such has not been exposed to the diverse alien life of a Federation military operation. Aliens like the Cardassians and the Klingons, whom her people often dealt with and as a result plastered all over the news, were no big shock. She had grown accustomed to their strange, non-Rihannsu features. But as the last of the transporter effect fades and she can truly look about her new surroundings, she stiffens, nowhere near prepared for what she sees. Stepping onto the starbase is like jumping into a pool of ice water—the shock freezes your muscles and stops your breath. Mandana sees humanoids with skin of all different colors, some covered in ridges and some alarmingly smooth. Others aren’t humanoid at all, but scuttle about on eight legs or are covered from head to toe in fur. Some have three eyes and some have eyestalks and some don’t appear to have any sort of visual organ at all.

And that’s just in the transporter bay.

Mandana takes a shaky step down from the platform, staring straight ahead. Her husband often told her stories of alien encounters he’d had serving aboard the _Narada_ —interstellar mining was a surprisingly exciting career. She always thought he exaggerated those stories to impress her, but clearly he was not romanticizing.

Oren, at least, seems to be enjoying himself. He sits in a sling strapped to her front, his eyes wide. Whereas the alien setting has her on edge, he coos and smiles and reaches out to grasp at his new surroundings. The officer standing behind the the transporter controls, a humanoid woman with a spattering of dark spots at her temples, smiles and waves back at him.

“At least one of us is enjoying themselves,” Mandana whispers, half to him, half to herself.

“You alright?”

 She jumps slightly at Doctor McCoy’s voice and turns to see him standing beside her, brow creased.

  _Oh for Elements’ sake, pull yourself together,_ a voice in her head hisses. _It is ridiculous that you should freeze in fear at what, to them, is nothing special._

 She sucks in a lungful of recycled air through her nose, straightens her shoulders, and gives the doctor a nod and a forced smile.

 “Just…caught off guard,” she assures him, and follows him over to where Captain Kirk and another human stand. The room they are in is spacious, and clearly functions as more than a transporter bay. Crates and boxes are stacked to the ceiling, a good four meters high, and three shuttlecraft in various stages of repair are tucked away in the back corner. Beings of every sort shuffle about, conducting their business and not sparing the four newcomers a glance. The captain and the unidentified human stand before an industrial-sized door, one that Mandana presumes leads to the base’s interior.

 The human identifies himself as Riley Dermott, shaking hands with both McCoy and Mandana and leading them into the space station proper. They follow him through a wide, curving corridor, lined with windows that offer a stunning view of the main-sequence star around which the base orbits. Though she stays at the hallway’s center, Mandana does catch herself glancing out at the spectacle. It is beautiful, in a terrifying sort of way. She feels she could better appreciate the star’s beauty, were the station not locked in free-fall around it.

 Dermott leads them to a turbolift and the doors slide shut. The lift starts upward and, with nothing now to draw her attention but the dull walls, Mandana realizes their escort has been talking the whole time. She feels slightly annoyed that she hasn’t been paying attention. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to have missed anything important.

 “—though the neighbors haven’t been giving us any trouble,” Dermott is saying.

 “And how is the ambassador enjoying his new location?” Kirk asks.

 “Misses the old constellations, sir,” Dermott responds as the doors swish open.

 The corridor that the turbolift deposits them in is quite a bit more posh than the lower decks, but that isn’t saying much. It is carpeted, for one. The metal walls are also painted in a light color, perhaps to give the cramped space a more airy feeling.

 “Right this way,” Dermott instructs, and leads them through a maze of passageways until they reach a small but comfortable anteroom with a single door leading, Mandana can only assume, to the Starfleet representative they are meeting with. Their escort turns to face the three of them. “The defense attache will wish to speak to all three of you separately. Starting,” his eyes land on Mandana, and she can see the guardedness in them, “with you.”

 Doctor McCoy turns to her. “Will you be alright?”

 She understands his concern, but is miffed that her skittish behavior warrants it. “Of course,” she answers in a neutral tone.

 “Just through the door, then,” Dermott directs her. “Good luck.” And with that, their guide vanishes down the corridor from whence they came.

Mandana looks at the closed door, and her anxiety peaks. Through that door is the future of she and her son, and if the representative she is to speak with does not see her situation for what it truly is, the future could be very dark indeed. The captain and the doctor are watching her. How long has she stood here, staring at the door? She inhales slowly, preparing herself, and glides through the doors.

 The room she enters is minimalist. Dark gray walls give way to a pale grey cement floor, upon which rests a black metal table and two matching chairs. A man in a dress suit stands as she enters, having previously occupied one of the aforementioned chairs. A blue-skinned Andorian in a Federation uniform stands beside the entrance, toting a phaser rifle. His eyes follow her as she enters.

 “Have a seat, Mrs. t’Karil,” Suit Man says, motioning to the chair. She sits down opposite him, feeling very claustrophobic. This room is clearly designed for intimidation purposes, with all the fixings of an interrogation chamber. No windows, one door, an armed guard…

 “Leave us,” Suit Man orders. The Andorian guard salutes and exits the room, and the door hisses shut behind him. Mandana’s skin prickles. Suit Man eases himself into his chair, his dark eyes never leaving her face. And there they sit, in nearly absolute silence, for what feels like an eternity. She feels as though she is being sized up, her reactions to this situation noted and judged. She forces herself not to squirm in her seat, and meets his gaze.

 At last, he speaks. His voice is thick with an accent, heavy vowled and very angular. “I am Rear-Admiral Dietrich. I am serving as the defense attache for the Federation Ambassador to the Romulan Empire. We have contacted their government concerning your presence in our space, but as of yet have not received any response.” He pauses, allowing her a chance to respond.

 “And nor will you,” she says. One lone citizen is of no concern, especially one bearing a name that holds no weight in the bureaucracy. “It is just as well, though, because I do not wish to return.”

 He arches a dark eyebrow. “Oh?”

 “I would like to request political asylum.”

 Dietrich clears his throat. “Mrs. t’Karil, political asylum is granted only in the cases of persecution of a citizen by that citizen’s government, and I don’t believe that is the case here. I have read the report on your rescue, and from your own testimony it seems you were not a victim of persecution, but rather a victim of a natural disaster.” He leans forward, knitting his fingers together and resting them on the table’s polished surface. “While I can sympathize with what you have gone through, you are still a citizen of the Romulan Star Empire, in no way endangered by its governing powers, and therefore not eligible for political asylum.”

 “It depends on how you would define persecution, Rear Admiral,” she answers, feeling her confidence levels swell. “It is no secret that slavery has not been outlawed in the Empire, and while the majority of the slaves are prisoners or Havrannsu, it is not uncommon for a Rihanha without a House—that is, a family group—to be forced into such a position. My House would not recognize me. Slavery or life as a bond-servant are all that await us, should you send my son and I back.”

 Dietrich leans slowly back in his chair, mulling over Mandana’s words. The pause is achingly long. Her palms begin to sweat in the silence, and she rubs them against the fabric of her shirt. Oren shifts in his sling **,** oblivious to the weight of the conversation taking place. _If Dietrich refuses…_

 “Sir, in your position you must know that what I have said about my culture is true. You have heard my testimony, you know who I claim to be, and you know the evidence presented. I beg you to consider asylum. For the sake of my son, it is our only option."

 Dietrich taps a finger on the table. "I can make no promises, but I can at least see to it that there is a committee meeting to decide on whether to grant your request. You must fill out a formal petition. Unfortunately, you did not pick the right time to cross the Neutral Zone. Our relationship with Romulus is strained at present and may affect your petition.

 "However, if granted, it would pave the way for you to gain Federation citizenship. I am told you are also a doctor...?"

 Mandana nods.

 "You will need to pass the Federation Medical Licensing Exams before you can practice as well."

 Mandana allows herself a moment of hope.

 "If granted, what would your plan be?" Dietrich asks.

 Mandana has thought of this. She has thought of going to Earth, living among the humans. Or Andoria, or Alpha Centauri, or any number of the Federation colonies spread throughout space. But she hesitates. She knows that, wherever she chooses to settle down, that is from where Oren will draw his identity. He will not be Rihannsu, but Centauran or Andorian or human. And she fears this. Her solution, then, is not to immerse him in any one culture, but many. He will know some human, and some Andorian, and some Centauran, and some Rihannsu. He will never truly understand his roots, no, but some is better than none. And so she asks to join Starfleet.

Dietrich looks surprised when she says this and scribbles something on the pad in front of him. "Starfleet is competitive. It might take time for you to be accepted. What will you do, in the mean time?"

 "Send me to a starbase or keep me on the _Enterprise."_ The thought of perhaps not setting foot on solid ground for a while unnerves her, but she thinks of Oren. She must do what's best for him. "I am a hard worker. I will earn my keep until my application is approved."

 "Very well. We will also be meeting with the officers from the _Enterprise_ that you have been in contact with. We will give you your answer in no more than three days' time."

 Mandana inclines her head and they both stand. Dietrich extends a hand to her. She takes his hand and shakes it firmly. Oren twists in his sling to look up into the rear-admiral's face. He coos, and Dietrich smiles. It looks out of place on his otherwise stern face. "I wish you all the best, Mrs. t'Karil," he says.

 She and Oren are ushered out into the anteroom, where Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy are waiting. They stand as she exits.

 "How'd it go?" McCoy asks.

 Mandana shakes her head. "I do not know. I requested asylum, but he seemed leery to take my word at face value. I understand, but it worries me."

 McCoy places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. "That's just the rear-admiral for you. They'll take everything into account."

 Mandana looks up into his face. She wonders if he knows that his word, and the word of the captain's, will likely hold more weight than her own testimony. Her life is, quite literally, in their hands. She wants to plead with him to vouch for her, for her son's sake, but holds her tongue. She will not stoop to begging. She still has some dignity. She can only hope her actions on the _Enterprise_ over the last tenday speak for themselves.

* * *

 _Nero seemed to miss a lot of trains after our conversation that cold night. I didn’t see him every time I walked to the station, but three or four times a tenday was not unusual. I noticed, but found I didn’t mind. Since moving to Mhiessan, I’d been some what of a loner. Work was my life and it was quite apparent I wouldn’t be making any friends among the nurses and techs and other doctors. I hadn’t known how_ lonely _I’d been until Nero jumped, quite literally, into my life. I found myself looking forward to the days he would purposefully miss his train—it happened far too many times for it to be accidental—just so I would have someone outside of the medical complex to talk to._

_I didn’t realize just how much I enjoyed his presence until he didn’t show up at the station for a whole week. The wait for the yhfi-ss'ue was suddenly very…quiet. Each night I arrived with the regular crowd of nightshift workers, scanned the rows of seats at the station for Nero, and each night my spirits fell a little more when I didn’t catch sight of him. The irony of this whole situation was not lost on me—just a month before I would’ve hated to see him sitting there, but now I couldn’t stand the idea that my only friend was missing._

_“My goodness, Mandana. If you miss his presence so badly, you really need to get out more. Go to a bar or something. Meet a person who_ isn’t _connected to your work,” I grumbled to myself as I trudged through frozen grass to the station. It was the thirteenth night in a row—how pathetic was it that I counted the days?—that I waited for the yhfi-ss'ue alone. The air was freezing cold, again, but the sky was clear. The brightest stars shone through Mhiessan’s cloud of light pollution, and patches of frostremaining from a shower a few nights before sparkled in the pale, watery light. Despite the residual snow the tracks were clear and the train arrived on time, gliding silently into the station._

_I shuffled with the rest of the commuters into the tube’s heated interior, blowing on my hands and rubbing them together to get the blood circulating again. Damn, it was cold outside. I had just sat down when a familiar face stuck his head through the still-open door._

_“Wrong car, Mandana,” Nero said. I wasn’t surprised to see him. Pleased, annoyingly enough, but not surprised. I’d grown used to his ability to materialize from seemingly nowhere at any random time. I scooted over in my seat and motioned to the empty space. He stepped inside, the door closed, and the yhfi-ss'ue took off._

_“Haven’t seen you in a while,” I told him as he dropped into the seat beside me. Nero leaned his head back and closed his eyes._

_“Been working late all week so I could get off early today,” he answered, then turned his head and cracked a smile. “Miss me?”_

_I ignored the all-too-truthful assumption. “Something planned?”_

_“My ship’s returning from a tour tonight, and the crew always goes for a pint as soon as she docks. It’s their reward for four months of consuming nothing but water and mineral dust. I’m meeting them at the bar.”_

_“Because you’ve been working_ so _hard and you need a break_ just _as much as they do,” I said dryly. He straightened up._

_“Physical therapy isn't exactly a cake walk,” he answered, “and because I was unable to serve on my ship, the Guild’s had me working in HR. Desk work is dull and tedious, but then you throw in office drama and I just don’t see how people hold down steady jobs without ending the life of their coworker in the neighboring cubicle. Worst three months of my life. This is my way of celebrating that it’s almost over,” he answered._

_“And that’s where you’re headed now? Doesn’t seem like you got off all too early.”_

_Nero shrugged. “Well, I had some business to take care of before meeting them. Want to come?”_

_The invitation came out of nowhere. I blinked and gave him an odd look. “E-excuse me?”_

  _Would you like to come along? Take a night off.”_

_“I have work. Nightshift, remember?”_

_“You can always call in sick.”_

_“You mean lie?”_

_“Once you get a few drinks in you, it won’t be much of a lie.”_

_I laughed out loud. “Me? Get drunk? No.”_

_He nudged me with his shoulder. “Oh, come on. When was the last time you took a night off?” he wondered. I raised an eyebrow._

_“The night you jumped into my apartment.”_

_The truth was, that was the_ only _day I’d taken off. In the year and a half I’d worked at the medical complex, I hadn’t gotten sick or seen any reason to call in for a personal day. And hadn’t I just been saying I needed to get out more?_

_“_ Yes, go to a bar with the questionably sane. It’s a sound plan, _” a voice whispered in my head._

_“So you want me to lie to my boss, take a night off from saving lives, and go have a drink with a bunch of people I’ve never met?” I asked, already dismissing the idea._

_“They won’t_ all _be strangers. You’ve met a few of them before,” he assured me. I recalled the group of Rihannsu huddled outside the medical complex the night Nero was first admitted._

_“Talking to a patient’s visitors hardly constitutes ‘meeting’ them,” I answered. “I don’t even know their names.”_

_“You know my sister,”_

 " _She shows up to drink with your coworkers, too?”_

_Nero grins. “Of course she does! We’re just one big, happy family.”_

_I rolled my eyes and turned forward. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to skip work for you,” I answered._

_“Suit yourself,” Nero said, turning away with a shrug._

_The yhfi-ss'ue slowed to a halt at the station moment later, and an automated voice came over the intercom.“Attention, passengers,” it announced, “recent reports show that ice has built up on the tracks ahead. Expect delays.”_

_Nero stood and glanced down at me. “It’s a sign.”_

_I chewed on the inside of my cheek, torn. To lie, or not to lie…I really doubted anyone at the complex would discover I had lied about calling in sick. I took so few personal days, and I really_ did _want to go. It would be nice to have some social interaction. To be safe, I glanced up and down the aisles of the yhfi-ss'ue, and stood._

_“You’ve talked me into it,” I said, “but only this once.”_

_Nero grinned, victorious, and led me out into the ch’Rihan cold, three stops from the medical complex._

_“How far is this ‘local’?” I asked, crossing my arms in an effort to keep myself warm._

_“Not too far. You won’t be cold for long. As soon as we get some alcohol in you—”_

_“Oh, no,” I interrupted him, shaking my head. “There will be boundaries. I don’t want to drink, or get drunk.”_

_Nero threw me a disbelieving look. “Mandana, we’re going to a bar. Their whole business is based on alcohol.”_

_“And,” I continued, “I would appreciate it if you didn’t drink, either.”_

_He blinked._

_“You are my escort. I can’t have you dancing on tabletops. You invited, so you get the wonderful responsibility of playing host.”_

_Nero sighed theatrically, but nodded. “Fair’s fair.”_

_We arrived at the bar after a blessedly short walk, and Nero introduced me to his shipmates._

_Commander Artierr was a large, broad-shouldered man who looked every part the miner he was. His dark hair was streaked through with grey, his face rough and pocked after years in the Guild. He wore a full beard that he kept neat and trimmed on his angular face._

_“So you’re the lady responsible for grounding my first officer,” he said in a friendly, booming voice._

_I looked at him, taken aback. “Um…yes?”_

_He laughed at my expression and clapped me on the back. “But you’ve also taken good care of him. We thank you.”_

_The rest of the miners all chimed in with their names. There was Ayel, the string bean, and Adyrra, Nero’s sister, and Jubi and Ralua and Hrevim and Lharin, and on and on and on. All in all, there were about twenty-some miners gathered around the large table._

_I took a seat at this table, in between Nero and Adyrra and across from Ayel. They all ordered drinks, all but me. That didn’t stop the miners from offering me a drink anyway._

_“I feel I should stick to my own ‘no alcohol’ rule,” I said, staring apprehensively at the glass of cobalt liquid they’d placed before me._

_“The party can’t begin until you drink,” Ayel answered, leaning over the table and pushing the tumbler in my direction. I looked around the circle of miners all staring at me expectantly, most already on their third or fourth drink, hoping to find some help. Adyrra egged me on with the rest of them, and Nero just sat their silently, his chin resting on his hand, smiling mischievously and offering no way out. The peer pressure proved to be too much. With an exasperated sigh, I picked up the glass of ale, hesitated just long enough to glare at Nero, and tilted the whole thing back._

_It burned like no alcohol I’d tried before, it’s flavor a strange tangy-spicy-sweet that seared my throat and tongue and brought tears to me eyes. It was a battle to swallow it all without gagging. I slammed the empty tumbler back on the table and tried to suck in a breath, coughing and sputtering. The ale burned all the way down._

_Everyone at the table was in fits—Artierr, Lharin, and the rest. Ayel howled in laughter across from me, clearly the most intoxicated of the bunch. Even Nero joined them, his head down and his body shaking uncontrollably. I turned to Adyrra, who was hiding her smile behind her hand._

_“What did I do?” I croaked, blinking tears from my eyes._

_“Oh, sweetheart, you aren’t supposed to drink it all_ at once _,” she answered between hiccups of laughter. I felt my face flush and tried to cover up my embarrassment by hitting Nero on the shoulder. He jerked his head up, eyes still bright._

_“Ow! What’d_ I _do?” he wondered._

_“I blame you for this,” I responded. The concentrated alcohol was working fast; I could already tell my dictation was failing as my tongue tripped over the words._

_“She’ll be fun tonight, Nero!” Ayel called out, and that set the group off again. He twisted around in his seat and waved at the Rihanha behind the bar’s counter. “Hey, bartender, another round over here!”_

_I shook my head. “No, no more of that. That was awful.”_

_“Only ‘cause you chugged the whole thing!” Lharin snickered. “No more kali-fal, tonight. But you’ll like this. Guaranteed. “_

_A new set of drinks was brought to the table, an amber liquid topped with a good amount of foam, spilling over the tops of tall glasses. The miners all reached for their own pint, and I caught Nero looking longingly at the drink. I snagged one from the center before Ayel could grab a second and slid it over to him._

_“Here, drink. I broke the rule; it no longer applies,” my words slurred considerably._

_Nero looked down at me, amused. “While I’d love to, one of us has to stay sober.”_

_“Oh,” is all I said in response, and sort of sat there, staring at the foamy beverage, fighting an internal battle._ To drink, or not to drink…

_“Hey, Mandana, you gonna’ drink that?” Adyrra asked, nodding to the drink in my hand. Part of me wanted to say no—the kali-fal had hit me hard enough—but at the same time, one sip couldn’t do much more damage…_

_I lifted the pint to lips and slurped at the foam. The drink was, to my surprise, delicious. Malty and sweet and with an alcoholic kick considerably less than the ale I’d tried moments before. This I would have no problem drinking in one gulp. I take a long swig from the glass and set it down on the table, pushing it towards her. My body felt warm, the lights were bright, and everything was so loud, though not unpleasantly so. I didn’t realize I was such a lightweight when it came to alcohol—hardly more than one drink and I was already tanked. The thought struck me as hilarious and I cracked up, falling back on to Nero. I was laughing hard and I just couldn’t stop._

_“It’s probably best if she doesn’t have anymore,” Nero answered his sister, pushing the tasty foamy drink over to her. She grinned down at me._

_“We’re gonna’ have to build up your alcohol tolerance, sweetheart,” she purred. Ayel caught sight of me, totally wasted, and winked at Nero. Nero only rolled his eyes. Wanting in on the joke, I leaned over towards Ayel and winked at him._

_“Why are we winking?” I whisper-shouted. Ayel cackled._

_“You are gone, aren’t you?”_

_I shrugged. “Maybe just a bit.”_

_The night progressed with drink after drink. Ayel caught me staring longingly at the drinking miners and took it upon himself to distract Nero, who had been adamant in enforcing the “no more alcohol” rule. When Nero wasn’t looking, I snuck more sips from the foaming brew that Adyrra was nursing. She was more than willing to share with me._

_It was long after midnight that we left the bar. One by one the miners dispersed, bidding each other farewell. Recognizing the party was over, I made to stand and almost toppled over the the table. Adyrra gripped my shoulders and hauled me back up, almost losing her own balance._

_Nero, Adyrra, Ayel, and I were the last to leave. The four of us walked out to the bar’s front step, me leaning on Adyrra and Ayel leaning on Nero._

_“Adyrra, you and Ayel head on home. I’ll take Mandana and meet up with you later,” Nero said._

_“Oh no,” I said, pushing away from him and Adyrra. “You’re not walking me home; I can make it to the station on my own.”_

_“Not like that you can’t,” he answered, reaching for my arm. I slapped his hand away._

_“I’m just a bit tipsy, that’s all,” I took one step away from him and tripped over my own feet. I would have landed face first on the pavement if Nero hadn’t darted forward to catch me._

_“You are so drunk, Mandana,” he laughed. “Maybe it was a bad idea to invite you tonight.”_

_“Oh, sod off,” I grunted, leaning against him as I tried to get my feet back under me. “It was the best damn night I’ve had in a long time.”_

_“And it doesn’t need to end with you passing out in an alley somewhere. Just let me walk you home.”_

_I twisted my head to look at him and blinked slowly, trying to focus on his face. A difficult task, considering I saw three of them and they were all moving. “Alright, fine. But I’m not jumping through any windows,” I told him. He sighed theatrically and wrapped his arm around my waist, supporting most of my weight._

_“This again? I am fully capable of taking a lift tube when it suits me,” he answered. “Besides, that drain pipe is far too flimsy to support both of us.”_

_I rolled my eyes at him and we hobbled down the road, with him all but carrying me home. We reached the station in due time. It was nearly empty at this hour, and when we boarded the yhfi-ss'ue to my flat we were the only ones in the car. I leaned my head on Nero's shoulder, struggling to keep my eyes open. I was all at once exhausted and thoughts of my warm sleep couch nearly put me to sleep._

_I didn't remember the rest of the ride home, or the walk from the station, but suddenly Nero and I were coming to a stop before my apartment building._

_“And here we are, safe and sound,” Nero announced. He loosened his grip around my waist and I staggered forward. The door was password locked, and I immediately saw a problem. The numbers on the screen swam like a school of fish in front of my eyes. I couldn’t concentrate on any of them, and my finger wasn’t fast enough to catch one. I leaned against the brick wall._

_“Before you go, I need you to do something,” I said. “The keyboard won’t sit still.”_

_Nero rolled his eyes as he walked up behind. “I’m never letting you near alcohol again.”_

_“No arguments from me,” I answered, closing my eyes. All this spinning was making my head hurt. We stood in silence, in the freezing cold, for a good minute and I wondered why the hell he didn’t open the door. I cracked an eye and saw him staring expectantly at me. “What?”_

_“The door code?” he pressed. It took a moment for my sluggish brain to catch up with him, and when it did, I laughed obnoxiously loud. Drinking really wasn’t my thing._

_“Oh right, right, of course,” I gasped between giggles, and gave him the number. He punched it in and the door slid open. Warm air spilled out from the lobby, and I was suddenly very tired. I wanted nothing more than to fall on my couch and sleep for ten years._

_“Well, I’ll leave you to that. Goodnight, Mandana,” Nero said, and turned to leave._

_“Wait, wait, come back here,” I called after him, reaching for the sleeve of his jacket. He turned and I managed to close the space between us without tripping. “I wanted to thank you for the good time. It has been a while since I’ve gone anywhere other than the complex or the market and it was refreshing.”_

_“You’re welcome. I think—”_

_Before he had a chance to finish, I grabbed his face in both my hands and kissed him. I like to think it was one of my better kisses, but considering the state I was in, it was probably sloppy and wet and, in hindsight, lasted entirely too long. Nero went completely stiff, clearly shocked by the unexpected act, and when I pulled away his face was frozen in surprise. It took him a full second to recover._

_“You did it wrong,” he coughed. “Pretty sure there should have been a window somewhere in there.”_

_“Oh, shut up. I conveyed gratitude like a normal person,” I grunted, stepping back. “Now then. Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”_

_The question was rhetorical, and Nero didn’t answer. I left him standing on the steps to my apartment, and I caught him watching me with an unreadable expression before the door finally slid shut._

* * *

"She wants to join Starfleet," Dietrich tells them when they sit down. Jim sees Leonard throw him a pointed look. So the doctor was right after all. Mandana really didn't want to go back to Romulus.

"And you should let her," Leonard says. "What's that Vulcan saying? 'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations'?"

"It goes beyond that. In light of the recent crossing of the Neutral Zone by the cloaked vessel, getting anyone to agree on letting Mirs. t'Karil stay here, let alone join Starfleet, will be difficult," Dietrich explains.

"But not impossible," Jim says. Dietrich nods.

"It would help to have endorsement from those who know her best, which at present seems to be you two."

"She's got my support," Leonard says, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. Another pointed look is thrown Jim's way. He sighs.

"Two days ago she saved the life of my first officer," Jim says. "Whatever crossed the Neutral Zone, I am quite certain it was not her. Presuming, of course, that she passes her FMLEs, it might be nice to have someone with knowledge of Vulcan physiology on board the _Enterprise_. As my medical officer pointed out recently, we still do not have such a specialist."

Dietrich writes something on his pad. "She was unsure where she would go, pending her acceptance into Starfleet. You are saying you would be willing to keep her on until then?"

Jim exchanges a glance with Leonard. "...Yes," he finally says. Leonard smiles.

Dietrich clears his throat. "I will bring this information before the council. Your support will go a long way in helping her case. Because of the exceptional circumstances surrounding Mrs. t'Karil, the council will be meeting tomorrow and you should have your answer within three days."

"Thank you, sir," Jim says.

"You may be called upon for further interview. As such, it might be prudent for you to remain in orbit until further notice. You are dismissed."

Jim and Leonard salute and leave the rear-admiral's office. Mandana is sitting in the anteroom, looking down at Oren with distant eyes. Her face is strained. She looks up when they exit and immediately she is on her feet.

"We offered to keep you aboard," Jim explains to her. She looks stunned.

"T-thank you," she says. "The rear-admiral said we would have an answer in three days."

Leonard smiles at her. "And you might want to spend that time studying. Half the reason we want you aboard is your expertise."

Mandana's cheeks flush green at the praise and she looks down. "Of course. I will do just about everything to keep from being sent back...there." She motions in the general direction of the Neutral Zone.

Jim nods. "I don't blame you." He starts for the cargo bay they had beamed into. Leonard falls into step beside him, and Mandana trails behind.

"How is Oren doing?" Leonard asks over his shoulder.

Mandana smiles faintly and looks down at her son. "He is thriving. He is strong, like his--" and here she stops, and Jim knows exactly what she was going to say-- _like his father._ Something sharp and hot arcs through him. Not anger, not exactly, but something incredibly similar.

He knows what Nero did is not her fault. He understands this, in his heart of hearts. But he read Pike's rundown of all that had occurred to him aboard the _Narada_ , and he knows that Mandana is a large part of why Nero did what he did. That, coupled with the fact that she undoubtedly mourns the genocidal Romulan, does not sit well with him. He backed her for Dietrich, and he stands behind that. She saved Spock, after all. But he is not comfortable around her, and he doubts he ever will be.

And Jim is not the only one wary of Mandana. Many aboard the _Enterprise_ are unnerved by her presence. Though they haven't met her, there are whispers. No one but Jim and Leonard and the higher ups in Starfleet know her relation to Nero, but it doesn't matter. Nero's actions instilled in the Federation folk a healthy fear of the Romulan people. Jim wonders how they will react if Mandana is allowed to stay aboard the ship.

Leonard, on the other hand, is completely taken with her. Typical Southern hospitality and all, but Jim wonders if it goes beyond that. Respect for another physician, perhaps. Leonard has fallen behind and now walks beside Mandana, smiling down at her son. At least someone is not put off by her.

They reach the the transporters and are beamed back to the _Enterprise_. Spock is waiting for them, hands clasped behind his back. He has not spoken to Mandana since she saved his life, but he knows it was her expertise that allowed them time to synthesize an antivenin before he succumbed to the venom. He, too, does not know about her and Nero. Jim has been meaning to tell him, but every time he gets a chance something stops him. He is worried of what his first officer will think about them rescuing Mandana in the first place. Outwardly Spock displays a calm, logical exterior, but what goes on in his mind only God knew. Jim is protecting Mandana, he realizes.

The Vulcan's eyes travel from Leonard to Mandana, where they linger for half a second before landing on Jim. "I trust the meeting with the rear-admiral went well."

"As well as we could expect," Jim says, stepping off the transporter. Mandana excuses herself, casting a glance at Spock over her shoulder. Her expression is unreadable as she hurries away. Leonard salutes Jim and follows after her, headed for the sick bay. It is just Jim and Spock, and the transporter operator, in the transport room.

"I don't think I understand what you mean," Spock says. Jim looks up at the ceiling and exits the room, Spock beside him.

"She wants to join Starfleet," Jim tells his first officer. If Spock is surprised, he doesn't show it.

"Not entirely unexpected. I hardly anticipated her wanting to return to Romulus."

"I offered her a spot on the _Enterprise_ while her application is pending, if her asylum petition is approved."

Now Spock looks at Jim. "The _Enterprise_ is hardly the place for a mother and her child."

"Maybe not, but it is a place for anyone who has the medical know-how to save my first officer's life. And the lives of a few thousand Vulcans on Natala. I thought I was making a logical decision."

Spock turns his head forward. "Given our history with Romulans, I would disagree with you."

"Mandana wouldn't have a much better time if we dumped her at a starbase. The entire Federation is touchy towards Romulans right now. We might as well keep her close, where she's useful," Jim argues.

"Perhaps," Spock says, but Jim doesn't think he's convinced his first officer.

_He'll come around_ , Jim thinks. _He'll come around._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, whoever may be reading this. Nothing is going to keep me from positing the rest of this fic but it would be nice to hear from those who have happened to find this story nine years after the fact. I would love to hear your comments. <3


	7. Damaged At Best

It is exactly three days later the _Enterprise_ receives the news: Mandana's petition for asylum has been accepted. She feels like a great weight has been lifted from her shoulders, and she touches her forehead to Oren's. In the aftermath of Nero's attack, she has been afraid they would not be eager to trust his wife. Do they even know who she is? Did Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy tell their superiors? They _must_ have. Mandana is all the more grateful to them. They have rescued her in more ways than one. 

With her future now less rocky, less uncertain, Mandana can focus on other things. Such as reearning her medical license. She knows it will be difficult, given the number of species Federation doctors have to be familiar with, and in order to apply for Starfleet as a doctor she must also learn them all. She puts herself back to school, with McCoy's help. 

"You are sure giving me access to this knowledge is not against the law," she says as he flicks through a pad, sending electronic files of all of his old textbooks to the computer in her room. He smiles at that. 

"I don't know how it is on Romulus, but knowledge is a free thing here. There's no barriers to learning. You don't need to be a medical student to have access to this," he explains. 

Mandana crosses her arms. Knowledge on ch'Rihan was a guarded thing. You were taught just as much as you needed to know and nothing more. 

"Thank you," she says sincerely, and McCoy waves her off. 

"It's my pleasure. The sooner you pass your FMLEs, the sooner I can put you to work."

"I will work my hardest," she promises. She owes the _Enterprise_ so much--her life, Oren's life. She wants to not be a burden, but a contributing member of society again. 

"There is one more thing," McCoy tells her as she's about to leave. Mandana stops and turns to him. 

"Yes?"

"I'd imagine that intradermal translator isn't going to do much when it comes to the textbooks. If you need help, you might want to find Lieutenant Uhura. She's the best Romulan speaker we've got."

"I will keep that in mind," Mandana assures him.

And so she sets to work. Learning _is_ difficult, slogging through medical texts with so many words that the translators will not render. It doesn't help that she is still not sleeping well at night. Every time she closes her eyes she sees her beloved homeworld blown to bits, sees her husband scarred and tattooed almost beyond recognition. She is up every few hours to feed Oren anyway, but the time she is able to snag some sleep it is constantly disrupted by the nightmares. 

She finds herself in sick bay a lot, seeking sedatives. McCoy is not always on the clock, but when he is, he gives her a look. 

"You're going to become dependent on these," he says. 

Mandana nods. "I know. But it's better than the alternative."

McCoy only sighs and gives her the sedative.

After her second week, he cuts her off. 

"There's a reason you're not sleeping, and ignoring that instead of dealing with it is going to cause you more harm in the long run," he explains. 

Mandana is annoyed, but she sees his point. She wouldn't let a patient do what she is doing. McCoy is right and she hates it. 

"So go on. Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I don't know," Mandana lies. She doesn't want to admit to having the nightmares. It is admitting to a weakness, and somehow, despite all the people aboard the _Enterprise_ have done for her, she still does not want to let down her guard. McCoy doesn't buy it. 

"Yes, you do."

But it is McCoy, after all. Surely he wouldn't use her weakness against her. She bites the inside of her cheek and finally relents. "It is nightmares. They won't leave me alone."

McCoy doesn't look surprised. "Of course they won't. You've been through something traumatic. The mind has to find ways to process it all."

Mandana leans back against the counter. "So what now, then? I don't suppose you have a cure for nightmares."

"No, but I believe talking about it can go a long way to getting over it. I double as the ship's psychologist, if you ever want to talk."

She doesn't like this idea. Admitting she was having nightmares had been hard enough. But opening up about why? To a _human_? Mandana shakes her head. 

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not ready for that yet."

McCoy nods. "Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind."

Mandana returns to her room. Oren is starting to fuss in his crib when she enters, and she crosses the floor to pick him up. He quiets once he's in her arms. 

"Is that what you needed, love?" she croons. He yawns sleepily. Mandana wishes her life was as uncomplicated as his. He has nothing to worry about. And if he has a bad dream, there is someone there to comfort him. That's all that is needed to whisk the memory of the nightmare away. Talking to McCoy might actually help, Mandana knows, but she isn't ready to take that step yet. She's been among the humans for less than a month. She needs time. 

How much time she needs, however, is something entirely different. On her third sleepless night, Mandana lies there, staring at the dark ceiling, afraid to close her eyes for fear of what she will see. And she recognizes that this as ridiculous. If she wants to pass her exams, she needs to study, and if she wants to study, she needs to sleep. And if she wants to sleep, well. 

So the next morning Mandana situates Oren in his sling and heads to the sick bay. It is telling that she knows Doctor McCoy's normal shift hours. He is helping a crewman with a nasty looking burn when she arrives. He catches her eye and acknowledges her with a nod before returning to his work. She will wait, then. 

As she is waiting a human with long black hair enters the sick bay. She wears a red uniform that stands in striking contrast to her dark skin. The human freezes when she catches sight of Mandana, and makes to leave, but is stopped when Doctor McCoy steps out from behind the bio bed where the newly patched-up crewman sits.

"Uhura! What brings you here?"

So this is the linguist McCoy told her about. Mandana thinks she doesn't look too thrilled to be in the presence of a Rihannsu. 

Uhura's eyes flick to Mandana and back to McCoy. She swallows and lifts her chin. "Bennett fell and twisted his ankle during a basketball game on the twelfth deck. It's nothing serious, I'm just here for ice and an ACE bandage."

McCoy rolls his eyes. "Bennett is going to permanently damage his ankle if he keeps this up," he says, and disappears deeper into sickbay to collect what Uhura requested. Mandana gathers that this Bennett is no stranger to the sick bay.

The two women wait in awkward silence. Mandana studies the lieutenant, thinking that now would be an excellent time to bring up how she requires assistance with the medical texts. She should not be put off by Uhura's frosty nature; it is to be expected from the Federation people. Mandana's acceptance will take time. She must first be the one to assure them that she is no threat. Mandana inhales slowly. She is so far out of her comfort zone on the _Enterprise._ So far out.

"You're Lieutenant Uhura," Mandana starts. She stands, but stops when the human subconsciously shifts away. Uhura glances at the Rihanha.

"Yes," she says cautiously. 

"Doctor McCoy tells me you are fluent in my language."

Uhura straightens. "All three dialects."

"I was wondering, then, if you might be able to help me."

Uhura looks surprised, raising both eyebrows to her forehead. She is silent, so Mandana continues.

"I'm not sure how much they've told you about me, but on my homeworld I was a physician. Here, my medical credentials mean nothing. The Federation requires me to pass a set of licensing exams to practice again. And unfortunately, these translators do a poor job of rendering many of the terms I need to be studying," Mandana says. 

Her words hang in the air for so long that Mandana begins to wonder if she spoke them at all, or if it was all in her head. At last Uhura talks. 

"You need help translating in order to pass the test," she reiterates. Mandana nods. Uhura looks towards the ceiling. Mandana gets the distinct feeling the other woman feels trapped. She almost regrets asking. The last thing she wants is to be a burden. 

"I could help, I suppose," the human says. Mandana grins, and it feels alien on her face. Has it really been so long since she last smiled?

"I will be forever grateful for your help," she says. The other human returns her smile, but it's small and hesitant. 

"Of course."

McCoy returns then, carrying an ice pack and a rolled bandage. He hands them to Uhura, who thanks him and leaves in a hurry. 

"So I see you took my advice," McCoy says, referencing Uhura's agreement to help her. Mandana shrugs. 

"The textbooks are hard to translate, even harder since I'm still not sleeping."

McCoy frowns. "I said no more sedatives..."

"I know," Mandana cuts him off. "I was here to...to talk. About it."

"Oh," McCoy says. "I'm not available right now, but if you wanted to meet tomorrow I could make room."

"Don't clear your schedule on my account. I don't want to impede your work," Mandana assures him. He smiles at her.

"You're not the burden you think you are," he chides. "Tomorrow."

Mandana nods. "Tomorrow, then."

* * *

Tomorrow comes, and Mandana is anxious. She wipes her palms on her pants and thinks about cancelling. But she spent another sleepless night tossing and turning in bed, and she knows her coping method--that is, simply ignoring it all--is doing more harm than good. 

_Talking to someone will be good for you_ , a voice inside her says. 

And it would be. So, around midday ship's time, she makes her way once more to the sick bay. Oren comes with, of course, and he is already turning out to be more like his father. He peeks out of his sling, wide-eyed at everything he sees. Not fearful like his mother.   


Nurse Chapel is there to greet her when Mandana enters the sick bay. The other woman smiles welcomingly at her. Aside from the captain and Doctor McCoy, the nurse is the only other being aboard the _Enterprise_ who doesn't stare at her suspiciously. Mandana appreciates this. 

"I'm here to see the doctor--"

"Yes, he's in his office. You can head on in," Chapel says. Mandana nods and ducks her head. Apprehension grips her throat and makes it hard to breath. As she did on the starbase, Mandana berates herself. What a picture she gives of her people: not proud, not distinguished, but instead meek and afraid. 

The door to the doctor's office swishes open and McCoy looks up from his desk.

"Doctor t'Karil. I almost thought you were having second thoughts."

He calls her "doctor," not "misses" like everyone else she has met. It is nice to be recognized for what she is. Mandana looks around the office. "I was. I got over it. And please, call me Mandana." Constantly hearing her last name has set her on edge. She wants some semblance of familiarity, and McCoy knows her well enough now that using just her last name is bordering on rude in her culture.

"Okay, Mandana. While we're at it you can call me Leonard in here. Titles are often an obstruction to therapy anyway."

_Therapy_. Mandana closes her eyes. She is better off just accepting it. That's what it is, after all. Not a sign of weakness. It is taking all of her strength not to run. McCoy--Leonard--motions to the chair before him. Mandana sits, shifting Oren in her lap. He has fallen asleep since entering the room, and his eyes flutter beneath his lids. Dreaming.

She looks up at Leonard, unsure where to begin. He seems to anticipate this and says, "So, the dreams?"

Right. Mandana crosses her ankles beneath the chair and sits up straighter. 

"Sometimes it's ch'Rihan, sometimes it's Vulcan," Mandana begins, looking down at her hands. "But always I am watching it from somewhere, not a shuttle. I am above it. I feel the heat of a supernova on my face. I see it coming and I can't stop it. And I know there are innocents down there and I can't stop it. I'm screaming and still it comes, and then my vision goes white and everything is hot and I'm spinning and then I wake up."

There's more to it than that. There's always Nero, and he stands there watching it, sometimes smiling, sometimes scowling, and she's screaming at _him_ now, begging him to stop, and he ignores her. It feels like her heart is being ripped from her side, and as the heat consumes the planet it takes him with it. Above everything, she still misses _him_ , and she can't say that. She doesn't know how Leonard would take that. After all, Nero had committed genocide against a peaceful planet. It should be wrong to miss someone so evil. And here she is, just as distraught over his death as she is the deaths of two worlds and billions of Vulcans and Rihannsu.

Leonard nods as she's talking. His eyes are sympathetic, and he doesn't seem to notice that her husband is absent from her dreams. 

"Is that what it was really like?" he asks. 

Mandana pauses. The nightmares have become so prevalent that she isn't sure what really happened and what her mind had made up. "I...I don't know. I don't remember."

"Yes, you do," Leonard says gently. "You just pushed it down so you wouldn't have to think about it. But you have to, so tell me. What really happened? What did you see?"

Mandana closes her eyes, trying to bring up images she'd buried on purpose. Burying them was half the reason for the nightmares, she knew. It hurt to think about, but it was necessary. And slowly, the memories start trickling back. "I'm standing next to a woman. She's older than me, my grandmother's age. Her head is bowed. She's praying. Our shuttle is flying fast but we haven't gone to warp yet. I don't know why. I see..." she takes a shuddering breath. When she opens her eyes Leonard is staring sympathetically at her. He nods, telling her to go on. "It's light. So much light. A _wave_ of light. I've never seen anything like it, and it's traveling faster than us. It...it collides with ch'Rihan."

There are tears on Mandana's face and she doesn't bother to wipe them away. "In two seconds our home is just...it's gone. There's nothing left."

It hurts to remember. Every fiber of her being wants to stuff everything back where it was. She doesn't want to see this, doesn't want to watch her family--her father, her sisters, and oh _Elements_ her nephews, and her three month old niece--blown to bits. Her head falls into her hands and her shoulders shake with silent sobs. 

"What do you miss most?" Leonard asks her when at last she comes up for air. Mandana sniffs and brushes at the corners of her eyes, but she knows it does little good. She knows her eyes are puffy and swollen and she's knows her face is splotched green. She finds it in herself to be embarrassed, and counts this a good thing. If she can be so worried about a trivial thing such as her appearance than maybe this is doing some good. 

But she can't answer Leonard's question. She can't just say "Nero." She is trying to become a citizen of the Federation, and surely that would raise a red flag? Mandana bites her lip and looks over Leonard's shoulder. He must be a mind reader, because he leans back in his chair. 

"I can't utter a word about what is said in this room, Mandana. It's a breach of patient-doctor confidentiality. Whatever you have to say, you can say it in confidence."

She could tell him. She opens her mouth to say his name, _his_ name. But it doesn't come. The silence hangs between them, and Mandana hangs her head. _Lie_ , she thinks, and so she does.

"My family, of course," she says. Her fingers run over the hem of her shirt. It is only half of a lie. Nero was her family, technically. "And Mhiessan, my home town."

Leonard looks unsatisfied with that answer, but doesn't push it."Naturally you miss them. What else about home, specifically, do you miss?"

Mandana takes a breath. In her mind's eye she sees Mhiessan out her apartment window, lights glittering on the water of the bay. She smells the salty air and feels the cool breeze on her skin. It is warm in her flat, and she feels someone come up behind her. She knows if she turns she will see Nero, but she keeps her gaze straight ahead. Leonard is fishing for an answer and Mandana will not give it.

So she looks down at her hands. "Nothing."

* * *

_We spent more time together after that night. I made it a habit to spend the end of my tenday out with Nero and his friends. And slowly, they became my friends. I met Lharin's parents and attended Ralua's wedding. They, in turn, accepted me like I was one of their own. Hrevim, the CMO aboard the_ Narada _, would often talk to me about the latest medical advances. It was refreshing to meet a medical professional who didn't look down on me. The only downside to having miners for friends was that, eventually, they had to leave on another tour._

_Nero's physical therapy ended in time, though I thought that he probably could have quit after he scaled my drainpipe. Clearly he was back to normal long before my prescribed therapy plan ran its course. For him, this was wonderful news; the_ Narada _had sorely missed its first officer and he had missed it. For me, this was less than thrilling. The time was fast approaching when Artierr and his crew would disappear into the Outmarches for months to mine arcybite wherever they could find it. And I would be alone. Adyrra would still be here, of course, and I was grateful for that, but I found myself dreading Nero, in particular, leaving._

_On the eve of Nero's return to duty, I suggested getting together one last time before he vanished._

_"Are you going to miss me that much?" he joked._

_"I might," I said, nudging him with my shoulder. He laughed._

_"I'll see if Adyrra and Ayel want to get together. Everyone else is already aboard the_ Narada _, prepping the ship."_

_This was fine by me. However, both Ayel and Adyrra said they were busy._

_"Doing what?" Nero asked._

_"Things," was Adyrra's coy reply, and she cut off the comm. Nero blinked at it, then looked down at me._

_"They're never busy. I don't think Ayel even knows anyone who isn't a miner."_

_I shrugged, not swayed. "I guess it's just us, then."_

_Nero looked shocked. "Really?"_

_I smiled at him. "Don't act so surprised," I said. I knew where he was coming from. Ever since I'd insinuated he might be interested in me, he'd done everything in his power to assure me he was_ not _, for my sake. And going out to dinner, just the two of us, could be construed as "more than friends." But to tell the truth, I didn't care anymore. Whether he fancied me or not, I was just happy to have a friend. There was nothing wrong with dinner, I figured._

_We went to a local restaurant, a bit more upscale than Nero was used to. I wasn't sure how much miners made, but the look on his face as we approached told me it likely wasn't enough._

_"Mandana..."_

_"My treat," I told him. He still seemed hesitant, so I took his hand and pulled him inside. "I said, my treat. We should at least celebrate your completion of my rigorous physical therapy plan."_

_He grinned at that and followed me inside. We were seated at a table for two, and the candle that flickered between us set the mood. Nero shifted uncomfortably in his seat before putting it out with his fingertips._

_"Much better," he said, and I chuckled. A gentleman to the end._

_Dinner came and went. We talked idly, though it was mostly Nero gushing about how happy he was to be leaving. A part of me was somewhat hurt, though I wouldn't show it. He clearly wasn't as broken up about leaving me as I was. I didn't want him to_ not _go, but a little hesitancy would have been nice. It was petty, and I wondered where the feeling had even come from. After all, Nero and I were just friends._

_Just. Friends._

_It was a gorgeous night as we left the restaurant. Gorgeous, but cold. The snow had long ago evaporated but the temperature still hovered around freezing. The sky was clear, free of clouds, and through the light pollution of the city only the brightest stars could be seen._

_"I wonder which one is Ulauri," I said allowed, not realizing I'd spoken at first._

_Nero turned to me. "Do you want me to show you?"_

_"You know?"_

_"Of course I know. Come on.” He took my hand and led me through the city streets. The further we walked the less frequently lights sprung up along the sidewalk. Before long we were well out of the downtown area, in a large park that sat far away from any light that might obscure the stars. I looked up and exhaled, my breath forming a chilled cloud that dissipated to nothing in the chilly air._

_"I so rarely come this far out. The stars are absolutely amazing."_

_Nero shrugged. "They're okay. You should see the view from a starship."_

_I shook my head. "Nuh-uh, not me. I tried that once. Never again."_

_"Really? Never would have pegged you as aviophobic."_

_I shuddered. "Nope. It's not for me. I prefer to keep my feet on the ground. Or in the water, but never in the stars."_

_Here Nero laughed. "Really? You like the ocean but hate space?"_

_"Sounds about right."_

_"How odd."_

_"Is it now?" My tone was icy. I didn't much like being made fun of. Nero understood and back tracked._

_"I'm not mocking you. What I mean is, I hate the ocean. Can't stand it. But I love the stars."_

_I huffed a laugh. Okay, that was odd._

_The cold was beginning to get to me and I shivered hard. Nero took note._

_"Do you want my jacket?" he asked._

_I shook my head. "Then you'll be cold."_

_"Not really. Starships get cold in deep space. I'm used to it. Here," he shrugged out of his jacket and threw it about my shoulders. "And I'm not letting you give it back to me until we reach the_ _yhfi-ss'ue."_

_"If you're sure," I said, pulling the jacket tighter around me. It was blessedly warm._

_Nero smiled. "I'm sure."_

_I looked back up at the sky. "So. Ulauri?"_

_"Yeah." Nero leaned in close, putting one arm around my shoulder, and pointed to a sector of space just to the left of ch'Rihan's second moon. "It's four stars out, not the brightest one or the dimmest one...the medium one."_

_I snorted. "So descriptive."_

_"Give me a break," Nero said with a smile. He turned to look at me at the same time I turned to look at him, and all at once the air changed. It was sharp, electrified. I no longer felt the cold of the night or the warmth of Nero's jacket. Something buzzed between us and all I could feel was that buzzing. My eyes dropped to his lips and on a whim I was leaning forward until skin met skin._

_He kissed me back, hesitant at first, then more sure. We broke apart and I thought it was far too soon._

_"Are you just_ that _grateful that I pointed out my home planet to you?" Nero joked. I laughed softly and slapped his shoulder, pulling away and turning back to the stars._

_"Yeah. Something like that."_

Just friends _._

_Oops._


	8. From Past to Present

Leonard stops digging for a particular answer during their session, seeming to realize that Mandana won't give it. The therapy session progresses much easier after this. After saying what she feels out loud, Mandana finds it easier to deal with. The grief is still there, and it will likely follow her her entire life. But she leaves their first session able to breath easier. 

They have more sessions. Not every day, not even every week, but enough. They help Mandana get through her days. She finds she is sleeping better, the nightmares few and far between now, and she can actually focus on her studies. She would say she is recovering, except that Nero follows her everywhere. She still refuses to name him in therapy and as such she is completely unable to get over him. He is there when she sits at her desk, when she goes to sick bay, when she goes to bed. Everywhere she looks she sees his lopsided smile and twinkling eyes, and she hates them because she knows that Nero is no more. 

Mandana suppresses these memories of Nero and presses on, determined not to let him get in the way of her life. She meets with Uhura the day after her first meeting with Leonard. The other is uncomfortable, barely able to make eye contact. She shifts in her seat in the rec room, where she has agreed to meet with Mandana. Mandana is just as nervous. This is the most out-in-the-open she and Oren have been since their arrival on the _Enterprise._ There are stares that she can't ignore, whispers that her sensitive ears pick up. She does her best to ignore them. 

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be," Uhura begins when Mandana sits down. "Medicine isn't my area of expertise. I know conversational Rihannsu, nothing more complex."

Mandana's ears perk when she hears Uhura use the proper word for her people, and not simply the translator rendering Romulan to the proper term. Uhura may have misgivings about her, but Mandana likes the other woman immediately. 

"I'm sure together we'll be able to make some sense of all this," Mandana holds up her pad, filled to overflowing with medical texts. She pulls up the first, an immunology book from what she can make out.

They have their work cut out for them. They open the book, and the very first paragraph that they turn to is filled with words that the translator will not interpret. 

" _Hybridization with sequence-specific oligonucleotides is particularly useful for typing MHC-II specificities._ "

"Well." Uhura looks at the page, stumped. "I can’t even tell you the jist of it. I don't even know half these words." She pulls up a dictionary on her pad. "We'll take it one at a time."

"Hybridization" is easy enough to translate. "It means to cross two things to make something else," Uhura begins. 

The Rihannsu word comes readily to Mandana. "Ah, y _lehua_." She scribbles the Rihannsu equivalent over the word “hybridization” on her pad. 

"Oligonucleotides" is a bit trickier. It first requires Uhura to define nucleotide, which requires her to define DNA and RNA, which requires her to define macromolecule, and so on and so forth. It is a trying, tedious process that quickly frustrates both women. They press on regardless. By the end of the first hour they have only gotten through a few sentences, but now that Mandana knows a handful of words, they begin to repeat themselves and she can translate much of the rest of the chapter on her own. 

Over the course of their meeting, Uhura grows considerably more comfortable around Mandana. Her tense shoulders relax, and she even smiles once. When they finally stand to end the session, Uhura holds out her hand. "This'll be fun, I think. It's been a while since I've had to learn something new in a language."

Mandana takes her hand and tilts her head. "How many languages do you speak?"

"Nine," Uhura answers. 

Mandana raises her eyebrows. "That's...a lot."

Uhura actually chuckles. "I guess I just have a knack for it."

"I guess." Mandana drops Uhura's hand. It is at that moment that Oren, who has slept peacefully throughout the lesson, decides he is hungry and starts to cry. Mandana looks apologetically at Uhura.

"We'd best be going. Thank you again for all your help," she says as she shifts Oren in her arms, trying to console him until she can get back to their room.

Uhura smiles faintly at the boy. "I just wish I was more help. We'll get you where you need to be," she assures her.

Mandana has more confidence now. She inclines her head before hurrying off to take care of her crying son. Once back in her room, she sits on the bed to feed him. She pulls up the textbook on her pad as she does so, scanning the pages and absorbing what she can. The immunology textbook covers a number of Federation races, from Vulcans to humans to Tellarites. But in the end they are not so different. They all have B cell and T cell equivalents, they all have antibodies that can sensitize an antigen. 

_This won't be hard_ , Mandana thinks. The hard part is learning a whole new language. The rest she already knows. 

Mandana reads until the lights of the _Enterprise_ dim with the onset of gamma shift, and she turns in. 

* * *

_Six months later..._

"I hope you understand how bad this looks," Dessel says on the other side of the screen.

"And you're sure it was a Romulan disruptor they found on Natala?" Jim asks, rubbing the back of his neck. Bones isn't going to like this.

"As positive as we can be. It looks..." And here Dessel pauses and looks up at the ceiling. "It looks like it's not from this era. More advanced."

"Shit," Jim mutters under his breath. He scrubs a hand over his face. "And Mandana is still your top suspect."

"She is the only living Romulan we know who also happens to be from the future," Dessel explains.

"Are we sure no one survived from the _Narada_?"

"You tell me. You were there. Is there any chance that any of Nero's crew made it out?"

Jim recalls the black hole that swallowed up the twisted mining vessel. "We don't know where the singularity opened up. If someone was waiting on the other end..." Jim trails off when he catches Dessel eyeing him. He knows how ridiculous it sounds, but he is desperate to get the admiral off Mandana's tail. If there is one thing that the starship captain is sure of, it is Mandana's innocence. 

"How is she fitting in on your ship?" Dessel abruptly changes the subject. "It's been over six months."

Jim exhales. At least the admiral is giving him a chance to prove her sincerity. "Good. Lieutenant Uhura is helping her with her Federation Standard, and my CMO thinks she will be ready to take the FMLEs soon."

Dessel raises an eyebrow. "She learned that quickly."

Jim grinds his teeth. He knows what the admiral is insinuating. "It is my understanding that humanoid races can only be so different."

"Perhaps." Dessel leans back in his chair. "There is another reason I wanted to speak with you."

"Oh?"

"The disruptor we found had traces of dirt on it. This dirt contained a mineral that we have only been able to find on one other planet. It is spitting distance from the Neutral Zone."

"Okay..."

"We want your ship to go there and investigate. It is doubtful whoever is responsible for leaving the disruptor on Natala is still there, but perhaps you might find more evidence. Something to clear Mrs. t'Karil's name." Dessel clears his throat. "I know this is far off your course, but it would in her best interest."

Jim nods. "I'll have my helmsman chart a course as soon as we're done here."

"Good. I will be awaiting your report." 

The screen blinks out and Jim leans forward on his elbows, lacing his fingers together. 

"Kirk to bridge," he says, and the comm chirps to life. 

"Bennett here, sir," comes the helmsman's voice. 

"We've been ordered to change course. The coordinates should be arriving at your station momentarily."

"Very good, sir," Bennett answers. 

The transmission cuts out and Jim’s eyes dart to the clock on his desk. He sighs. He should get some rest, but his mind is running a million miles an hour. How did a Romulan disruptor--from the _future_ \--get to Natala? Mandana's evac shuttle was unarmed, and no one on board had carried any weapons. There's something Jim is missing, he is sure of it, but for the life of him he can't imagine what it is. 

_Worry about it in the morning_ , Jim thinks, and wearily falls down on his bed.

* * *

Time passes in a whirl. Mandana continues to see Leonard, and her sleep schedule returns to something almost normal. She wakes up feeling rested, not drained, and can tackle her studies with Uhura with all she has.

She is learning fast. They make it through the immunology textbook in no time, and from there they move onto genetics and biochemistry. Mandana finds her Federation Standard is becoming sharper. She deactivates her intradermal translator from time to time, forcing herself to hear the language and respond in kind. One of the requirements of Federation citizenship is to speak their primary language. She knows citizenship is a ways off, but she wants to make it as easy on herself as possible. 

Mandana is also making friends of the _Enterprise_ 's crew. Well, perhaps "friends" is a strong term. The suspicious glances have begun to subside, and she has been approached by more than one crewman or woman asking to hold Oren. She is grateful for her son for many reasons, but she imagines her peers would be much harder to win over if she was not a mother. Oren makes her appear less threatening, less menacing. She isn't like other Romulans, they say. Not like Nero or his crew. She is simply a refugee, a victim of unfortunate circumstances. 

But of all the people onboard, Leonard and Uhura are those she is closest to. Leonard has also proven himself a teacher, helping her with her studies when he is able. He can't translate, no, but he is very good at putting concepts into words that the translator understands. 

Throughout their therapy sessions, Mandana reveals much about herself. At first she is self-conscious, spilling her truths to a human. Slowly, very slowly, she grows more comfortable with him. She tells him about her father and his controversial policies towards humans, and about her brother and his family, about her sisters and their careers. She never mentions Nero. Leonard listens intently, commenting only when necessary. Some of his comments are just reassuring, but sometimes he lets slip details about his own life. 

In their fifth session together, she confesses her fears that Oren will have no connection to his true heritage. She speaks Rihannsu to him as much as possible, but he is surrounded by so much that is alien she knows she can only do so much. She just wants what's best for him.

"As parents, that is our greatest want," Leonard says, and Mandana picks up on the "our."

"You have children?" she wonders, and Leonard actually looks sheepish that he let something by. 

"Just one. A daughter. Joanna."

"Then why are you on a starship, away from her?"

Leonard snaps his mouth shut. "We're not hear to talk about me," he says, and Mandana hears the defensiveness in his tone. _A sore subject_. She wonders what happened between him and his daughter to cause such a rift. What happened to his wife? Is she still living? The questions jump to Mandana's tongue but she swallows them. There is a time and a place, and here is not that place. 

Three months into their meetings Mandana learns about his wife. It is once again an accident. They are discussing Starfleet, and Mandana's plans to apply after she passes her exams. 

"It's so silly, honestly. I hate starships. Why should I want to work on one?"

Leonard leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You hate flying too, huh?"

Mandana looks to the ceiling. "I _loathe_ it."

"Well, that's something we have in common, then," Leonard says. 

Mandana frowns. "And yet you, too, are in Starfleet."

"Yeah." Leonard clears his throat. "Wasn't much left for me on Earth after the divorce."

"Your daughter?" Mandana presses.

Leonard doesn't seem to realize he is talking aloud. He shakes his head and stares at the ground. "Wife got full custody of her. I haven't seen her in five years. She refuses every visitation request I put in."

Mandana is horrified. For someone to be so bitter that they would deny a father the chance to know his child? She subconsciously hugs Oren tighter. 

"But enough about me," Leonard says suddenly, returning to the present. He blinks and turns back to her. "Where were we?" They go on from there, discussing her life and the deaths of those she cares most about, but Mandana doesn't forget what he told her. It sits there, in the back of her mind. 

And so life continues for six months. Nothing much changes, besides the attitudes of the crew. Mandana sleeps, she reads, she learns with Uhura and she talks with Leonard. Nero still crops into her mind and she pushes him down, unwilling to face him just yet. The _Enterprise_ glides through space, continuing her five year mission, and Mandana is all but oblivious to the goings on. If it doesn't affect her, she doesn't need to know about it. 

Until one morning there is a chime at her door. She stands, laying Oren on the bed, and the door slides open to reveal Leonard there, smiling at her. 

"Want to get off the ship?" he asks her without preamble. Mandana blinks. Are they at another starbase...? Leonard catches her confused look. "It's a planet. Its name is a jumble of letters and numbers, nothing you'd recognize, but it's Class M and we took a landing party down there."

"Why...why me?" she stammers, still caught off guard. 

"You're going to be a member of Starfleet, you should be familiar with Starfleet procedures."

"But I'm not yet a member. Aren't there regulations?"

"For missions with the potential of first contact, yeah. This is purely archeological. They found some old catacombs with what Uhura thinks is Romulan writing. She can't be sure. They'dlike your opinion on what they found."

Mandana looks back at her son, who has rolled over on the bed and is pushing himself up with both arms. He smiles at her. 

"I'd rather not take Oren down. I don't want him to be too far from the ship."

Leonard waves her off. "Nurse Chapel would love to watch him. She has a soft spot for kids."

Mandana eyes the doctor. "You're leaving me no way out of this."

"No, ma'am," he says with a grin.

She drums her fingers against the doorjamb, contemplating. It _would_ be nice to get off the ship, set her feet on solid ground again. The only thing she is unsure of is leaving Oren, but surely a nurse would know how to care for the young boy. 

"Alright," she relents, and Leonard claps his hands together. 

"Perfect," he says. "This way."

Mandana collects Oren and the two set off for sick bay. Nurse Chapel is indeed overjoyed to watch the child. She takes Oren into her arms and tickles his nose. The boy giggles, a magical sound. Mandana crosses her arms. 

"He's just had a bottle, so he should be ready for a nap soon."

Chapel nods. "I'll make sure he gets some rest."

Mandana has never left Oren for more than a few minutes at a time. This is a first for her. Leonard is watching her, waiting. At last Mandana inhales and nods. 

"We'll be back soon, then." _I hope_. And they are gone. 

Leonard takes her to a part of the ship she is unfamiliar with, but that isn't saying much. Mandana has only ever been to sick bay, the rec room, and her own room that she can remember. She knows she was transported to the ship from the evac shuttle, but that entire night is such an awful blur that she can't recall what it looks like. 

Captain Kirk is waiting for them on the transporter pad. He smiles at her. 

"Ready for your first away mission?"

Mandana rubs her upper arms. "I'd better get used to it, I guess."

He actually laughs and Mandana relaxes. He, too, has always been kind to her. 

They step onto the transporter pad and with a buzz of energy they find themselves on a dust-covered planet. The sky is a hazy red, a color that Mandana finds ominous. But then again, she has never been on an alien planet before. She had never left ch'Rihan before its destruction. 

The planet is a bland pale brown color, from the dirt to the rocks that jut up from the ground just a few meters away. They are at the base of a dry creek bed, into which large rocky structures are built. They look like caves, but the craftsmanship is too precise, to chiseled, to be natural. The rest of the away team is milling about these caves--there are scientists in blue and security in red. Uhura is easy to spot at the mouth of one such cave, studying something carved into the wall. 

Kirk leads them over to her. 

"We've brought you your help," he says. Uhura glances over her shoulder at Mandana. 

"Good. These runes have me stumped."

Mandana frowns. "What runes?" 

Uhura steps away from the wall and reveals a series of carved shapes, very geometric, set deep into the cave wall. Mandana recognizes them. She steps closer, running a finger through the grooves. 

"It's an old dialect of Rihannsu. Like, really old. Ancient."

"Well that doesn't make sense," Kirk chimes up behind her. "This planet is known for its bizarre weather patterns. It wears the rock down fast. If these were put here long ago, they should be worn to nothing by now."

"They are pretty worn," Uhura says. "And maybe these particular caves are just good shelter."

Mandana nods. "That must be it. In my time, no one on ch'Rihan has spoken this dialect in centuries."

"On Romulus? Are there other places that might speak it?" Leonard wonders. 

Mandana rocks back on her heels. "Possibly. Some of them are spoken on resource worlds." She knows this because Nero and Adyrra would often hold their own conversations in one such dialect. It frustrated Mandana and Ayel to no end. Now that she thinks about it, that's probably why Nero and Adyrra did it. 

Uhura freezes when she hears "in my time," but doesn't say anything. Mandana wonders just how much the crew has been told about her. Just how much has been kept from them? The other woman turns on her heel and strides deeper into the cave, flicking on a torch that she'd carried in a belt on her hip.

"Hey Mandana, come here. There's more," she says. Mandana follows Uhura, in awe of the cave. She's never seen anything like it. Leonard trails, looking only mildly interested.

"Hey, Johnson," Kirk calls, and a man in security red comes jogging over. "Stay with them. We don't know what might be in these caves."

Johnson salutes and comes to stand by Mandana, looking at the cave with one hand on his phaser. He makes her uncomfortable, but she can't discern _why_. Is it because, out of the corner of his eye, he is watching her more than he is watching the cave? 

_Stop that. You're finding danger where there is none,_ a voice inside her chides. But Mandana shuffles away from Johnson. He follows her, nonchalantly of course, but he follows her all the same. 

Uhura hardly notices their escort. She is running a handheld universal translator over the runes, trying to render them.

"You don't happen to know any of these ancient languages, do you?" she asks, frustrated. Mandana comes up behind her. 

"N--my husband spoke some. I can't be sure it was this dialect, though," she says. She catches herself just in time before saying "Nero." If the rest of the crew doesn't know who her husband is, she doesn't want to be the one to inform them. 

There is one word that is repeated quite a lot that Mandana thinks she might recognize, but the word is escaping her. Perhaps if she saw more of the runes, it might come to her.

"Let's go deeper--" she begins, but is cut off by a deep rumbling. She looks up and her eyes lock with Leonard's. 

"It's a planetquake," Uhura recognizes. 

"We need to get out of here," Johnson states the obvious. The four of them turn to run, but the ground shakes harder, knocking them off their feet. Fear sears through Mandana when she hears crackling overhead. 

"Turn back! It's a cave in," she shouts, and scrabbles backwards on her hands and knees. The rest follow suit, darting back into the cave just as a cascade of rock and rubble comes raining down from the roof of the cave. 

They sit there in stunned silence, afraid to move lest they bring the whole cave down on top of them. 

"Is everyone okay?" Leonard asks at last. In the light of Uhura's torch, Mandana sees him get to his feet. He hauls Johnson up. 

"I'm good," Uhura says, picking herself up off the ground. 

"Mandana?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not injured." Mandana, too, gets her feet under her and stands. In the dimness, a communicator chirps. 

"Kirk to McCoy," a voice echoes through the dark. 

"McCoy here. We're all okay," he says.

Kirk sighs in relief. "Thank God. We're going to get you out, but the rubble is unstable. We're afraid trying to phaser you out might make the situation worse."

"Well, don't do that," Leonard says. "Can you beam us out?"

"Negative. The rock is too thick. Just sit tight, we'll think of something."

"In the meantime--" Uhura dusts off her skirt. "--there are still runes to be translated. I'm going to have a look at them. Mandana, are you coming?"

Mandana might as well. Her heart still pounds from the cave in. She would much prefer something take her mind off the fact that they are currently trapped. Already she can feel panic rising at the fringes of her mind, and that just won't do. "Yeah, I'm coming."

"Don't go too far," Kirk warns over the communicator. "We still don't know what's in these caves."

"We won't," Uhura calls over her shoulder, already heading deeper into the cave. Mandana follows, and notices that Johnson tags along. Leonard, not wanting to be left alone, comes as well. 

"We'll stay within communicator range," he assures Kirk. 

Mandana stops listening after that. The deeper they go, the more runes they find. There is still one among them that repeats, now coming every other word. It bothers Mandana that she doesn't know what it is. 

"Hey, what's this?" Johnson asks, stopping before a round mass of stone that juts from the cave wall. The rest of them halt behind him, sizing up the stone. If Mandana didn't know any better, she'd say it is a door. It looks like it had been rolled into place a long time ago. 

Leonard taps on the rock, and a hollow sound answers him. "Whatever this is, it's covering something," he says. He motions Johnson over. "Help me push."

The two men line up on one side of the rock and push hard against it. Mandana joins them, and together the three of them manage to move the rock just slightly. More pushing, and they move it a little bit more. Before long there is a whole wide enough to fit a person in the wall, leading to pitch blackness. Uhura shines her light into the hole--

\--and screams, nearly dropping the torch. Mandana gasps and Johnson curses. There, tucked away into the wall, is a humanoid skeleton. Leonard lifts his tricorder and scans the bones, brow wrinkled. He pulls it away. 

"They're...they're Romulan."

_Of course_. It makes sense to Mandana now. She knows the word that keeps following them. "It's "death"," she says. The three before her give her odd looks. Mandana points to the series of runes that had been repeating along the cave wall. "Death. That's what those runes mean."

This, for some odd reason, is hilarious to her. She giggles, and the rest slowly smile. 

"Death, huh?" Uhura punches the word into the UT. She laughs when the UT gives her an angry sound. "It still won't translate the rest. That's not enough to go off of."

"Damn," Mandana says, wiping hysterical tears from her eyes. This doesn't strike her as a problem. "That doesn't matter, though. I know why those bones are here."

"Do you now?" Leonard says. He is holding back laughter. Some part of Mandana recognizes this as wrong, but she doesn't _care_. It's hard to care about anything when everything is so _funny_. 

"These are catacombs. There were tales on ch'Rihan about the first Rihannsu. Not all who set out on the journey found their way to the homeworld. This has to be them, then. The missing ones."

"But," Johnson asks around chuckles, "how did they survive? This planet is dead. There's no surface water, and the storms would wipe them out."

Mandana shrugs. "Perhaps they were here before the planet went bad."

"That's possible," Uhura says. "The storms are caused by the moon. If it was knocked into a lower orbit it could be responsible for changing the weather patterns. They settled here, and it killed them."

This, too, strikes Mandana as funny. She leans against the wall of the cave, body shaking with laughter. She's not the only one. Leonard has his hands on his knees, bent over trying to catch his breath between laughs. Johnson is actually crying and Uhura looks like she might join him. 

_This is wrong_ , a voice inside Mandana says. _Something is very wrong_. She still doesn't care. 

A squawking communicator joins the laughter, and Leonard struggles to open it. 

"McCoy," he says, snickering. 

Kirk pauses. "Is something funny?"

"Everything is," Leonard answers. 

Mandana is beginning to feel light headed. The world is spinning around her. She presses her back against the cave wall and slides into a sitting position, resting her head between her knees even as she continues to laugh. Johnson's face is red and he looks like he's struggling to breathe. 

_Help him_ , the same voice whispers. Mandana tries to get up but falls, setting off another round of laughter. She, too, is finding it hard to breathe. She gropes in the dark for the wall, and her hand touches something cold. Something metallic.

"We've almost got the entrance to the cave cleared," Kirk is saying, but Leonard seems to have stopped listening. Uhura is on her hands and knees, gasping for air between laughs. 

_We're going to die,_ the voice says, and this is perhaps the funniest thing Mandana has thought all day. She lies down on the ground, trying to suck in her next breath. On top of the cold, metallic thing is something soft. Something warm. She reaches for it and pulls it to her. The smell is familiar, but Mandana can't place it. She can't focus on anything. She hears the laughing voices of her comrades slowly die off when they find they can't pull in any more air. The edges of her vision start to go black. 

And suddenly there are lights in the dark, five of them, and someone is kneeling down beside her. 

"Mandana?" 

She doesn't have the air to respond. Someone pulls her up, supporting her weight on their shoulders, and carries her towards the brightest of the lights. As they move, it becomes easier to breath; Mandana sucks in great lungfuls of air, and her head begins to clear. The laughter slowly subsides.

The person holding her sets her down gently at the mouth of the cave. Her eyes come into focus and she sees Spock there, looking into her face. Behind him, Kirk and two other security team members help Johnson, Uhura, and Leonard out of the cave. 

"What happened?" she gasps, trying to catch her breath. 

"Preliminary scans show a toxic substance was kicked up in the dust from the cave in," Spock answers. "You are likely feeling the effects of that substance."

Mandana's head pounds. She rubs her temples. "We almost died."

"You are alright now," Spock says. He catches sight of her hands. " What is that?" Mandana looks down and sees she is clutching the warm and soft something in her hands. Her brows pull together. 

"It's...I found it in the cave, I think," she says. She remembers the cold metallic thing it was sitting on. "You should go check it out when the dust settles. There's something else there." She hands him the warm soft thing and sees that it is a jacket. It is solid black, with a decorative wedge of fabric falling down the back. It looks so _familiar_. 

Before she has a chance to place it, Spock is draping it over his arm and offering his hand to stand. She takes it and is helped to her feet. 

"We will. But I think it best that you return to the _Enterprise_."

"And I would agree with you," Mandana says. She tries to catch Leonard's eye from where he sits, catching his breath, but he is not looking in her direction.

"You will go right to sick bay. We don't know what lingering effects the substance from the cave might have," Spock tells her. She nods. She was going to anyway, considering that's where her son was. 

Spock speaks into his communicator, and she hears him asking for an escort to the sick bay. Part of her approves. She should not be walking anywhere alone until she is given the all clear. But another part of her remembers Johnson, and how he stuck by her, and she realizes she has hardly been alone outside of her room on the  _Enterprise._  

The buzzing of the transporter takes over and the view of the planet fades to nothing. Still Mandana wonders, does this escort serve a second purpose?

* * *

"I'm fine," Leonard assures Jim, running the tricorder over himself a second time. "See? No ill effects. We just needed to get out of the cave."

Jim rolls his eyes. He has already sent Johnson back up to the ship, and Spock sent Mandana and Uhura. Leonard is the only one left and he refuses to go. 

"I know you hate the transporter, but really--"

"It's not that. Starfleet protocol states that a medical officer accompany every away team."

"So we'll have Doctor Piper beam down here. You need to go back to the ship, Bones," Kirk tries. Spock is standing beside him, until then a passive observer. 

"It is illogical that you would put off a full medical check up after the events inside the cave," he finally speaks. 

Leonard gives Spock a look. "I'm _fine_."

Jim knows his CMO is stubborn. He has known it since he met the man on a shuttle for new Starfleet recruits. But normally, he has a _reason_ to be stubborn. Jim can see no reason for Leonard to put up such a fight...

...until he does. His eyes fall to the coat in Spock's arms, the one that Mandana found. Jim had told both Spock and Leonard about the conversation he'd had with Dessel, and had divulged that Mandana was still in Starfleet's crosshairs. And Leonard had not taken kindly to that. 

"For God's sake, will they get off her tail?" he grumbled in the briefing room.

Jim drummed his fingers on the table. Spock sat stoic as ever, mulling over Jim's words. 

"She is all we have to go on. The fact that the disruptor is from the future--"

" _Allegedly_ from the future," Leonard put in. 

"--it really doesn't help her case. Hopefully we'll find something on this planet that will clear her name."

Leonard had accepted that, and had then requested he be the medical officer to beam down even though it wasn't strictly his rotation. Jim had thought it odd that Leonard would try to beam down when it wasn't immediately required of him, considering how much the doctor hated the transporter, but hadn't questioned it. Now it made sense. 

"Whatever we find in the cave, we'll let you know," Jim says. "If it is something to help Mandana's case, you will be the _first_ to know."

Leonard sighs. "Fine." He flips open his communicator, eyeing Spock and Jim all the while. "One to beam up."

The sparkling transporter effect takes him an instant later. Spock turns to Jim as the other starts for the cave that had been responsible for the whole fiasco. 

"Is it just me or does he seem more disagreeable than usual?" Spock observes.

"This whole business with Dessel has him on edge. He's very protective of Mandana." _So are you_ , a voice inside him whispers. 

"Obviously," Spock says. They stop at the entrance to the cave, having waited over an hour to let the dust die down. Nevertheless, standard precautions demand something more. They both don ventilators that fit squarely over their mouths and noses. What remains of the away team does the same, and they enter the cave, torches glowing. 

It doesn't take them long to find the metallic object Mandana spoke of. It is a box, mostly unremarkable. It is a shade of forest green, and has some writing in the bottom corner, obscured by dust. Jim kneels down and rubs his thumb over the writing. He doesn't like what he sees. 

"Hey Spock, hand me the UT," he says, holding out his hand. The Vulcan obliges and presses the smooth metal cylinder into Jim's hand. Holding his torch in his mouth, Jim waves the UT over the writing. His blood goes ice cold. 

Spock takes notice. "It's Romulan, isn't it?" he says. 

Jim shakes his head. "It's more than that." He looks up at his first officer. "This box is from the _Narada._ "

* * *

_We didn't talk after the kiss. I didn't think anything of it, at first. Nero dropped me off at my flat and kissed my cheek good-bye. Then he left, and it was the last I would see of him for four months. And then the second-guessing started._

_I had kissed him. Not for the first time, but for the second. And this time I had been stone-cold sober. Initially I had been the one accusing him of chasing after me. Now who was doing the chasing? I recalled Nero's blank expression after our first kiss. Had I misjudged, somehow?_

He kissed you back _, I thought. And he had. Our second kiss had been nothing like the first. Surely he would have said something on the way home. Surely there would have been some awkwardness, at least._

_But the thoughts nagged me, and I couldn't shake them. One week after Nero left, Adyrra and I went out for a cup of_ zehava _and an_ osol _twist. I had yet to tell her what had happened between Nero and I, and I doubted he had mentioned it before he left._

_We sat at a front table, before the windows that gave a dazzling view of Mhiessan's streets. Flitters flew by, and pedestrians walked the promenade. The zehava warmed the mug in my hands._

_"So," Adyrra began, taking a sip of her own drink. "What's new?"_

_I bit my lip and looked out the window. "I kissed your brother."_

_Adyrra choked on her zehava. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "Really?"_

_I let my head fall into my hands. "Really."_

_Adyrra was smiling coyly, and I remembered how she'd been busy the other night. I looked up at her. "You're not surprised."_

_"I am a little." She set her mug down on the table and smoothed a napkin in her lap. "Didn't expect it to happen so_ soon _, but we knew it would happen eventually."_

We. _"Ayel was in on it, too."_

_Adyrra's eyes twinkled. "Don't hate us. It was so obvious the first night that you and Nero would be good for each other."_

_I leaned back in my chair, stupidly annoyed. Here I'd spent months trying to dissuade Nero and in the end all it took were his meddling friends to get us together. "Well, yeah. Maybe."_

_"There's no maybe. We saw the way you looked at him every time we'd get together."_

_"Yes, because I had a_ friend. _That's all I wanted was a friend."_

_"Well, now you have lots of friends. And a boyfriend."_

Boyfriend. _The word seemed so...juvenile. Like we were school kids with a crush. Is that what he was to me? We'd never had the chance to talk about it before he left. Maybe it was just a fluke. A one-time thing. Maybe he was humoring me. Who knew. All I knew was I had to wait four months to find out. I said as much._

_"You don't have to wait four months," Adyrra said, swirling her spoon in her drink. "You can always comm him on the_ Narada. _"_

_"I don't have his frequency."_

_"No, but you know someone who does." Adyrra pulled her napkin from her lap and scribbled a series of numbers on it. She slid it to me from across the table. I took it and studied it like there was a hidden code in the frequency. "It doesn't have all the answers, but it will get you to someone who does."_

_I pocketed the napkin. "Thanks, though I'm not sure what for," I said._

_Adyrra laughed. "You'll be good for each other, I promise. I know my brother."_

_I left the cafe with the napkin sitting heavily in my pocket. A part of me wanted to go try to call Nero immediately. Another part of me didn't want to be so desperate._

_In the end I was able to wait exactly three days before succumbing to the temptation. I had no idea what the_ Narada's _chronos were set to. For all I knew, I was calling Nero in the middle of the night._

It's his fault _, I thought._ He could have said something before he left. He shouldn't have left me wondering. He deserves to be woken in the middle of the night. 

_So after my night shift I came home, sat myself at my desk, and called him._

_He was surprised when he answered. "Mandana?"_

_"Who else were you expecting?"_

_"No one, really. I was kind of baffled when they said I had a call incoming. Adyrra never calls."_

_"Well, if we're something, you better get used to it."_

_Nero raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Really?"_

_"You can't just kiss me and then vanish into deep space."_

_"_ You _kissed_ me _, actually," he said._

_"Yeah, and you didn't say anything. You just left," I protested._

_Nero was amused. "What was I supposed to say?"_

_"Something. Anything? A 'Hey, it's about time', maybe?"_

_Nero spread his arms, now grinning broadly. "Hey, it's about time."_

_I snorted and dropped my head--I missed him so much already. I rested my chin on my fist and smiled at him._

_"Now what am I supposed to do for three and a half months?"_

_"Call me a lot more, I suppose," Nero says. "It gets lonely on this ship."_

_"Don't you have Ayel?"_

_On cue, Ayel stuck his head into the frame. "Nero gets tired of me reeeeeal quick," he said._

_Nero made a face and pushed his friend off-screen. "I wonder why." He turned back to me. "You make much better company."_

_"I'm flattered," I said._

_"Nero almost killed himself today," Ayel said, voice distant._

_Now Nero glared at his friend. "I thought we agreed not to mention that."_

_I was immediately on alert. "What happened?"_

_Nero sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Nothing--"_

_"Liar," Ayel said._

_I leveled Nero with a stare. "What. Happened."_

_"Really, it was nothing. The drill got stuck and I had to go figure out what the problem was--"_

_"--and then he fell ten meters to the deck," Ayel finished. I blinked in astonishment._

_"Are you okay?"_

_"Fine," Nero assured me. "I've fallen from higher."_

_"You've_ what _?"_

_"This is what you've gotten yourself into, Mandana," Ayel chimed in. Nero turned and threw something off screen._

_"Will you stop?" he growled. There was laughter that slowly grew more distant until it couldn't be heard at all._

_I leaned forward. "No, seriously, Nero. Are you okay?"_

_"You're worrying over nothing."_

_"Can you blame me? After how we first met?"_

_Nero rubbed the back of his neck. "This wasn't anything like that, I promise."_

_"It better not be. I'm not going to piece you back together again," I said._

_"You won't have to, Mandana," he smiled, trying to reassure me. I was unconvinced._

_"As long as you're a miner I'm going to worry," I said._

_"You're going to be worrying a long time, then."_

_"I know." I sighed. I shook my head. What had I gotten myself into?_

_"Mandana," Nero said quietly. I looked up. "I swear to you, I'll make it back.'_

_"And you'll be more careful," I said._

_Nero smiled softly. "I'll try."_

_It's all I could hope for, I assumed. I relented._

_"I should get to bed. I just got off a night shift," I told him._

_Nero nodded. "Seriously. Call me more. Four months is a long time."_

_It was that. I agreed. We signed off._

_The next three and a half months were long. I talked to Nero often, and if he had any more close calls he didn't tell me. I also met with Adyrra a lot. She kept me sane. The night before the_ Narada _was set to return, we got together. I was buzzing with anxiety, so ready for Nero to be back. Adyrra noticed._

_"I give you credit. You haven't fallen apart yet."_

_"You don't fall apart when he leaves," I objected._

_Adyrra nodded. "I did at first. We'd just lost everything. I hated sending him off for what I thought might be the last time."_

_There it was, that mention of the tragedy that destroyed House Karil. I looked down at my osol twist. I wanted to ask what had happened, not for the first time, but this didn't seem like the place._

_"Are you going to go up to the station? To welcome him back?" she asked._

_"I'm allowed to do that?"_

_Adyrra smiled over the rim of her mug. "They say it's only family, but they'll allow pretty much anyone up. If you want to go, we can."_

_"Yes," I said, leaning forward. "I'd love that."_

_So we woke up at the crack of dawn. Adyrra came to my apartment and led me to the airfields, where a shuttle was set to leave for the station where the_ Narada _docked. I clenched and unclenched my hands, nervous. Not just to see Nero again, but also for the flight. It was telling that I would brave going into space just to see him sooner._

_The flight was long, and though I normally tried to avoid windows that opened to space, I found myself looking out the porthole, searching for Nero's ship. Which was ridiculous, considering I didn't even know what it looked like. Adyrra pointed it out to me._

_The_ Narada _was smaller than I imagined, clunkier. Older. Not sleek like the warbird I had once served on. But it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen. Our shuttle docked, and dozens of excited family members exited in haste. Adyrra and I were not the only ones overjoyed to have a miner back home._

_"This way," Adyrra said, taking my elbow and leading me to one of the docking bays at the end of the station. As we walked, all around us were happy reunions. Spouses and children and parents and siblings all hugged their returning family member. That's what I was now, I thought._

_The closer we got to the_ Narada _'s dock, the more anxious I became. I started to second-guess myself once again. What if things had changed in four months? What if the kiss was just an accident? What if what we were feeling that night didn't carry over the long tour?_

_While I was worrying, Nero disembarked. He caught sight of me before I saw him, and his face lit up._

_"Mandana!" He called. He dropped his bag at the gangplank, ran to me, picked me up and spun me around. His lips found mine and in that moment I knew it wasn't a mistake. I gripped the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in closer. When at last we parted I noticed Ayel and Adyrra standing off to the side, smiling._

_"Thank the Elements. Maybe now he'll finally shut up about you," Ayel said playfully. I looked at Nero._

_"You talk about me?"_

_"A little," Nero said, then turned to Ayel. "And not a chance."_

_"Oh please,_ a little _," Adyrra scoffed. "Ever since he woke up in the hospital he's been pining."_

_So I had been right. My mind drifted back to that hospital room, standing awkwardly by the door while Nero's eyes sought me out in the corner. Back then it had unnerved me. Now I didn't care. The look of annoyance on Nero's face was a front for a fear that I imagined stemmed from my initial hesitancy to even associate with him. But I found it charming, rather than off-putting, and I kissed him to let him know I didn't mind. He relaxed._

_"And now you don't have to pine anymore," I said, smiling at him._

_He pulled me closer and pressed his forehead to mine. "Not as long as you're mine," he answered._


	9. No One Mourns the Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there is one pretty big spoiler for the musical Wicked at the end, so if you haven't seen it you might want to stop reading about three quarters through.

Dessel is unsure how to take the news. He is, for once, at a loss for words. 

"The _Narada_? Are you certain?" he asks for the fifteenth time. 

Jim nods tensely. "We had Lieutenant Uhura double check the UT's translation. There's no doubt about it."

"This is...troubling..." Dessel responds. This is an understatement. It means one of two things: someone has located the _Narada_ 's ruins, or someone from the mining vessel survived. Either way, someone has access to technology far beyond that of the current era, and who knows if they will use it against the Federation. 

"What was inside the box?" Dessel wonders. 

"Just spare parts. But these parts are fortified with a type of self-repairing nanotechnology we've never encountered before. We're sure they could only have come from the _Narada_."

"Starfleet command is going to want those parts as soon as possible. Where are you currently?"

"Just a few lightyears form Starbase Eighty-four. We can dock there and pass the box off to another ship."

Dessel nods. "We'll have the _Bradbury_ pick it up. Now, seeing how it is three am your ship's time--"

"Admiral, wait," Jim sits up before Dessel can end the communication. Dessel pauses, looking expectantly at Jim. 

"Yes?"

"What does this mean for Mandana?"

Dessel almost smiles. "Uncertain. It helps that she doesn't have tattoos, but the nature of her relationship to Nero still puts her on our radar."

Jim blanches. "Sir, I've read Admiral Pike's description of what occurred on the _Narada_. The loss of his wife is the primary reason for Nero's attack on Vulcan. There is no connection between her appearance and the Romulans if the _Narada_ is at all involved."

"Captain Kirk," Dessel begins, lacing his fingers together. "I understand what she means to your ship. And until there is a definite link, we will not bar her from Starfleet or citizenship. But you must understand that we have to explore all avenues here, and she is so far our best bet to get to the bottom of what is going on. And so we will continue to view her as suspect. Do you understand?"

Jim is unhappy. He knows it shows, but he can't help it. "Yes, sir," he says. 

Dessel nods. "Good. Rendezvous with the _Bradbury_ in two days. We will be anxiously awaiting the arrival of this next clue." And the screen blinks out. 

Jim stretches and pushes back from his desk. He knows he should get some sleep, but he is all at once not tired. He knows Leonard is on call tonight, and night shifts are most often dead in the sick bay. And Jim had promised to let him know what Dessel said anyway... 

Jim stands. He will explain this development to his CMO; that is, that nothing really has changed. Leonard won't be happy that this doesn't clear Mandana's name, but at least it didn't incriminate her. 

Leonard is in his office when Jim arrives, poring over a mountain of paperwork. He looks up when Jim enters and immediately the paperwork is forgotten. 

"You contacted Dessel."

"Yeah, and you're not going to like it," Jim says, leaning against the wall. 

Leonard's face darkens. "Did you tell them if Nero knew she was alive--"

"I told them everything. They just don't have anything else to go on. No other future Romulans have shown up in the meantime."

Bones leans back in his chair and looks skyward. "We should let her know what's going on."

"That's a bad idea," Jim says. 

Bones glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "If they suddenly haul her in for questioning? I think she'd much prefer if she had some idea beforehand."  


"But if there is a connection, somehow, lettering her know we're on her trail--"

"Do you hear yourself?" Leonard asks. 

Jim makes an irritated noise. "I'm just repeating what Starfleet would say. We keep her in the dark until absolutely necessary. There's no need to upset her with the news that her husband's ship might have been found."

Leonard sighs. "Right. Forgot about that part."

"We'll continue on as if there's nothing wrong. Let her take the FMLEs, let her apply for citizenship and to Starfleet. They say they'll give her that much. As long as we're keeping our eye on her, it shouldn't be an issue. And if she's not involved--which she likely _isn't_ ," Jim amends when Leonard gives him a look, "then her name will be cleared eventually. We just have to trust the system."

"The system is a joke," Leonard says, but there is no more he can argue.

Jim taps his hand on Leonard's desk. "The truth'll come to light. We've just got to be patient."

Leonard frowns. "Whatever you say."

* * *

More months pass. The incident on the unnamed planet is not forgotten to Mandana, despite Captain Kirk's reassurance that away missions are not usually so dangerous.

But all Mandana can think of is how she used to berate Nero for continuing to serve on a mining ship, even with a child on the way. 

"It's not safe. What if something happens to you again?" she would say. 

He would stand, take her by the arms, and kiss her forehead. "Nothing will happen. I'm a captain now. I'll leave the dangerous stuff to Ayel."

He could joke all he'd like. Mandana still hated it. 

As usual, thoughts of her late husband bring up mixed emotions of anger and grief. She stuffs them deep down where she doesn't have to feel them. 

Not long after her first away mission, they dock at a starbase and the crew is allowed to leave the ship, for a short time. It is the closest thing they've gotten to shore leave in over six months. Most of the crew jumps on it, Mandana included.

It feels good to get out of her quarters, she decides. She has avoided it for so long because of the stares the crew gives her, but now that she is spending time out in the open with Uhura she has grown more comfortable. And the only way to make the crew comfortable around her is to show them she isn't a threat. She goes to the starbase with Uhura, and she enjoys her time there. She does not allow the stares and the whispers to get to her. 

The jaunt at the starbase is short, however, and most of Mandana's time on the ship is spent studying. She still asks for Uhura's help from time to time, but her Standard is getting stronger, and her intuition helps her put the pieces of her textbooks together. 

"You hardly need me anymore," Uhura notes one day. Mandana takes this as high praise. Only rarely now does she tap on her intradermal translator. She feels she will be ready to take the Federation citizenship test before she even attempts her FMLEs. It is a good feeling, to know she is getting somewhere. 

The good feeling doesn't last long. Oren babbles to himself and to everyone he sees, and it isn't long before he speaks his first word. Mandana sits in the rec room, reading an anatomy textbook, barely listening as Oren entertains himself. Nurse Chapel finds her way over to the table and sits down beside them. 

Chapel has a soft spot for babies, Mandana learns early on. The nurse takes every opportunity she can get to spend time with Oren.

"Working on a starship means you rarely see any kids. I was going to be a neonatal nurse, you know," Chapel says one day. 

"What brought you to Starfleet, then?" Mandana asks. 

Chapel shrugs. "I also wanted to see the stars. You give up some things to explore others, I guess."

Now Chapel reaches out a hand towards Oren. "Can I hold him?" she asks. Mandana looks up from her textbook. Her arm holding Oren has long since fallen asleep; she could use a break. 

"Sure," she says, and hands the young boy to the nurse. Chapel pulls him onto her lap and smiles down at him. 

"He really is growing fast," she says.   
  
Mandana nods. "Too fast. He'll be speaking any day now."

"Will you, now?" Chapel croons. Oren giggles. 

"Me!" he says, and Chapel looks surprised. 

"Very soon," she says. 

Oren, seeing the positive response the word got him, happily repeats it. "Me me me me me."

Mandana sits rooted to the spot. It's his first word. She should be ecstatic. But his first word is in _Standard_.

Chapel notices Mandana's face and tilts her head. 

"Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah," Mandana shakes her head and forces a smile. "Just in shock, I guess." She rubs her son's cheek. 

"Me!" he says. 

After that, Mandana makes it a point to speak Rihannsu around him more. It's a good thing, she supposes. If they are to live in Federation space he should be fluent in the official language. But she can't help but feeling she failed him, somehow. It is her job to teach him where he came from, his heritage and his culture. And he can't even speak the language of his people. 

"It's only one word," Leonard says in their next session. 

Mandana sighs. "I know _that_."

"There's still plenty of time to teach him to speak Romulan."

"It's just a milestone," she says. "And his first milestone is a Federation Standard word. He's practically human."

Leonard looks at her sympathetically. "I'm not going to say teaching him about who he is will be easy, but there are ways. Nothing will ever change the fact that he's Romulan."

This is true. No one can take that away from him. "I just wish it would be easy. It's so hard to surround him with his culture when it is so looked down upon."

Leonard looks surprised. "Who looks down on you?"

Mandana gives him a look. "Surely you've noticed the looks. Because of what I am, and because of what my husband has done, I'm taboo. It is getting better, yes, but what if I had worn mourning tattoos after losing my planet? What if I had looked like the thing this ship now fears?"

Leonard shifted in his seat. "To tell you the truth, no, I hadn't noticed. But I see your point. The Federation has rules, though. There can be no religious or cultural discrimination. You could not have been punished if you'd decided to wear those tattoos. Resemblance to the _Narada'_ s crew be damned."

"Someone should tell the crew that, then," Mandana muses.

Leonard smiles ruefully. "You said they're getting better. And if you notice anyone treating you any differently, feel free to send them my way."

Mandana appreciates Leonard in that moment. But she is still torn over how to raise her son. She leaves the session with more worry than she started with. Part of her wants to retire to her room, to protect her son from the alien influence. But this is regressing, Mandana knows, and so, against her own wishes, she heads down to the rec room to study. 

Not much studying happens. Mandana ends up holding her son, speaking to him solely in her native tongue.   
  
"Can you say "mama"?" she asks in Rihannsu. Oren stares at her. 

"Me!" he crows, and Mandana sighs. 

"You don't look happy," a voice says, and Uhura slides into the seat across from Mandana. Mandana forces a smile. 

"Oren spoke his first word."

"So that should make you happy."

"It was Standard."

Understanding crosses Uhura's face. "Ah," she says. "If it would help, we could only talk in Rihannsu when we study from now on."

It might help Oren, but it would be doing Mandana no favors. She needs to speak the Federation language fluently in order to even apply for citizenship. It is a situation.

Uhura sees where she is coming from. "You'd still be speaking Standard to everyone else. Half your time you'd speak Rihannsu, half your time you'd speak Standard. It'll even out and Oren will get the best of both worlds."

Mandana looks down at Oren. "It could work," she says. She is still unhappy. Uhura catches on. 

"Why don't you put the studying aside for tonight? Do something fun."

"Fun?"

Uhura nods. "The _Enterprise_ has a drama team. We've got to find some way to pass these long stretches in deep space. They like to put on plays from time to time."

"That seems...superfluous," Mandana says. 

Uhura chuckles. "I take it Rihannsu ships didn't have drama teams."

"We barely had rec rooms," Mandana admits.

Uhura shakes her head. "I don't think we'd survive without something to do on this ship. Anyway, tonight they're putting on a classic Earth play called Wicked. I thought you might like to come along. It's really a show."

Mandana shifts Oren in her lap. "Would he like it?"

"If he likes bright lights and shiny things, I'm sure he would," Uhura says. Mandana thinks it through. "I'd really love it if you could come. Spock isn't big on Earth entertainment."

Now Mandana tilts her head. "Spock?"

"Yeah," Uhura says this as if Mandana should understand. And something clicks: _they're together._

Mandana feels a pang of sympathy for Chapel. Pining after someone who was taken was not something Mandana was familiar with, but she could commiserate. 

"Well?" Uhura asks. 

Mandana bites her cheek, then hesitantly nods. It would be good to have something to take her mind off of her son's first word. Even if that something does happen to also be in Federation Standard. 

The play begins at six o'clock ship's time. Uhura arrives at Mandana's door ten minutes before. They travel down to the rec room together, and Mandana takes a breath when she sees what it has been transformed into. In just a few hours, the rec room has gone from an open space filled with tables and chairs into a theatre. The stage at the front of the room is impressive, framed by a slate grey scaffolding adorned with gears and a giant dragon that hovers protectively over the entire scene. An emerald background competes the whole set. 

"How did they do this on a starship?" Mandana asks.

Uhura grins. "Replicators are a magical thing," she says, enjoying Mandana's amazement. 

They take their seats, and it isn't long before the entire seating area is filled. Some crew members even stand in the back, vying for a good vantage point. When the play begins, the music is so loud Mandana is at first afraid that Oren will dislike it. But he stares in wonderment at the set, and the brightly colored costumes, and he is silent.

Mandana, at first, finds the play hard to follow. Not only is the language more complex than the conversation Standard that she knows, but there is clearly some other material she should have been introduced to before the play began. But after a while she is able to fill in the gaps and the story sucks her in. 

It follows the life of a green-skinned Elphaba and her friend Glinda. At first the two are at odds, resenting each other. But as the play progresses they grow closer and closer together. The main focus of the musical, however, is a plot to keep Animals from learning to speak. Elphaba seems to be the only one who recognizes that this is wrong, and because of her activism chaos ensues. Mandana can't help but wonder how everyone sees Elphaba as wicked,when really she is acting on what she believes in. 

The play continues, and things continue to go downhill, culminating in the apparent death of Elphaba. Something in Mandana seethes at the injustice, and she is utterly shocked when, at the end of the play, Elphaba's now-turned-scarecrow love interest, Fiyero, rushes back to the trap door where she faked her death. In the end, when everyone believed the Wicked Witch of the West to be dead, she snuck off to happily ever after with her fair-haired lover.

When it ends, there are tears in Mandana's eyes and she doesn't know why. 


	10. All I Want For Christmas

It is only a month after the play that Mandana decides she is ready to take her citizenship test. She is almost ready to sit for the FMLEs, but she wants to make sure her Standard is acceptable before she attempts the test that will ultimately allow her to practice medicine once again. 

The proctor for the exam is a science officer by the name of Harper. She is subtly pretty, with fiery red hair and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. The exam is more difficult than Mandana imagined; not because she doesn't understand the language, because she does. It is the loyalty questions that give her pause. 

Her time with the Star Empire is at an end. In her time, Mandana isn't even sure the Star Empire still exists. And this time period's Empire will not take her back in a way she wants. There is nothing for her across the Neutral Zone. But when the test asks her if she promises to uphold the Constitution of the Federation of Planets, she stops. One of the articles contained in said documentrequires citizens to swear fealty to the governing bodies. It's silly to pause here. Of course citizenship would demand allegiance to the United Federation of Planets. But, Mandana thinks, it is treason against the Star Empire. Until now she has carried out no crimes against her people. To answer "yes" to this question is to commit sedition. Her finger hovers over the computer screen, unsure. 

It takes her a long time to build up the courage to give them the answer she knows that they want. There is a finality to it, a sense of no going back. This is it. She presses the key and the screen flashes green. 

After over a hundred questions, the test concludes. Mandana leans back in her chair. She had guessed on some, but in the end her score is a passing one. She exhales. She is a citizen of the Federation. 

"Congratulations," Harper says. "You're the first Romulan to be granted Federation citizenship."

She should feel something, Mandana thinks. This is a momentous occasion. All she feels is numb. Nyril would be proud of her, at least. She is doing what it takes to make life right for her son. She thinks he would approve of her decision. Once upon a time, Nero might have agreed. Mandana is almost certain that that would no longer be the case, were he alive. 

"Thank you," Mandana says, and stands. She shakes Harper's hand. The other woman is smiling at her. There is nothing hesitant underlying the expression. She seems genuinely happy for Mandana. 

Word of her citizenship test hits the news outlets later that night. Word spreads quickly, apparently. It is the first time her first and last name are mentioned in any official capacity. There are decriers, of course. People in the Federation who would rather see her sent back across the Neutral Zone. But just as many view this as a good sign moving forward. Mandana wonders what ch'Rihan thinks. Surely they had been following this news. 

_They think you're a traitor_ , the voice inside Mandana whispers. She will not let this bother her. She _will not._

"Welcome to the Federation, Mandy," Leonard tells her at their next session. He has taken to shortening her name, and Mandana finds she likes it. "Mandy" has a nice ring to it."You're one step closer to Starfleet."

"I just need to pass my FMLEs," Mandana says. Leonard nods. 

"And you will, I have no doubt. You're sharp. When are you taking them?"

It has been nearly a week since her citizenship test. Mandana decides to take them as soon as possible, while the information is still fresh in her mind. "Two days from now," she answers. 

Leonard smiles brilliantly. "We'll be happy to have you working with us."

Mandana smiles, but it is small. She can't wait to get back to work, but at the same time wonders how her mind will fare without all the studying to distract her. And there is still the matter of how her old home views her. Not just the first Federation Rihannsu citizen, but also a future member of Starfleet. Mandana looks down at her hands. "I just can't help but think what the Star Empire must think."

"You don't need to worry about that. You'll never have to face whatever consequences they might deem appropriate. You have a home here now."

_Home_. Mandana hasn't felt at home in almost a year. The _Enterprise_ is familiar, but it isn't home. She wonders if she will ever feel "at home" again. 

"I hear you're sleeping better," Leonard changes the subject. 

Mandana nods. "I have been for a while. This is really helping, I guess."

"Well good. That's what we were hoping for."

Yes, the sleeping is one hurdle overcome. What Mandana has failed to mention is that she sees her husband just about everywhere she goes. She is certain that is not the sign of a healthy mind, yet she still can't bring herself to utter her late husband's name. She cannot reconcile what she remembers of Nero with what Captain Kirk told her of him.

Leonard can't have missed how she never mentions Nero, but he never pushes her to bring him up. Perhaps, he assumes that she will bring it up on her own in time. _Not likely_ , Mandana thinks. She would like to suppress these memories for as long as possible. And because of her unwillingness to bring up Nero, they have run out of things to talk about. By now Leonard knows her whole life, just about. There is nothing else for her to say. 

At the end of their session, Mandana stands from the chair. "I wanted to thank you, Leonard," she says. "You've been unbelievably kind to me since I arrived. I really...appreciate it."

Leonard smiles. ”Of course, Mandy," he says. Mandana warms when he calls her by her nickname. "Anytime you need anything, you know where to find me."

She returns his smile and ducks out of his office, Oren in her arms.

She meets with Uhura the next day for their last study session before her tests the following morning. However, when she enters the rec room, she stops. There, in the center of the room, is a massive evergreen tree. Upon closer inspection, it is revealed that it is only a convincing fake. Mandana can't help but wonder how it got there. Replicators, again?

Uhura comes up behind her. "Gorgeous, isn't it? We're having a tree-lighting ceremony at the end of the week. You should come."

"But _why_?" Is all Mandana can say. 

"It's for Christmas, an Earth holiday. Lots of lights, lots of presents. It's a good time." Uhura brushes past Mandana to head for their table on the perimeter of the rec room. Mandana follows, still taken with the tree. 

"So," Uhura drops into her seat. "Our last study session before you take the test. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. I'd rather just take the test and get it over with," Mandana answers truthfully as she slides into the chair across from Uhura. 

"Well, I have to say, I'll be sorry to stop these sessions. It's been refreshing to learn from you. I almost feel like I could take the exams myself."

Mandana smirks. "You probably could, and you could do it in Rihannsu."

Uhura laughs. They begin, a simple review session, running over words Mandana has trouble with. She has ultimately studied enough that what once challenged her is now a breeze. She finds her mind wandering as they study, drifting back to her citizenship test. And beyond that, to Nero. She doesn't think of him as often as she used to, but it is not because she is forgetting him. It is because she pointedly refuses to acknowledge him. She doesn't want to think about what he's done, about what he used to be. But with this new chapter of her life, the old is coming back to haunt her. She can almost see Nero now, standing just behind Uhura's shoulder. He is his old self, all deep eyes and tousled black hair. 

"Forty-three years of loyalty to the Empire, and you just toss it away. Just like that?" he asks her. 

Mandana looks down at the pad, jaw working. _It's not just like that. I'm doing what is best for our son. I'm moving on._

"You'll never move on. I'll always still be here, in the back of your mind. You'll never get rid of me."

"I know!" Mandana hisses, and realizes too late she's said it aloud. She catches Uhura giving her a strange look. 

"You know what?"

"All...this, I guess." Mandana tries lamely. She sighs. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come across as rude as it did."

Uhura waves her off. "It's understandable. We're not really even accomplishing anything at this point. You know it all. If you want, we can cut this short."

Mandana looks back at Nero. He is scowling. 

"Sure, yeah. It's been a long few days. Let's cut this short."

Uhura collects her stuff and stands. "And the tree lighting. You'll be there, yeah? Spock and I are going if you don't want to go alone."

"I thought Spock didn't think much of human entertainment."

Uhura smiles. "He has to give in every once in a while. So, you coming?"

Oren reaches clumsily for the pad sitting before Mandana. "Mine!" he says, his second word. Also in Standard. Mandana stands abruptly and hands the pad to Oren. He stuffs the corner of the pad in his mouth and gnaws on it. He also has a tooth coming in; so many milestones. He is almost a year old by ship's time. It has been one year of recovery for Mandana, of coming to terms with her loss. She's still not fully there, and she doesn't particularly feel like celebrating on the anniversary of ch'Rihan's death. So she shakes her head. "I don't think so," she says. 

Uhura looks disheartened. "Suit yourself. Good luck on your test tomorrow." She rests a hand on Mandana's shoulder and then is gone, leaving Mandana and Oren alone with the apparition of Nero. 

"There's only one way to get rid of me, and you'll never do it," he says. Once again, Mandana knows he is right. She could bring him up to Leonard, and maybe then he would let her be. But that is a bridge she is still unwilling to cross. So she buries him yet again, and exits the rec room. 

* * *

The FMLEs are far more difficult than the Federation citizenship test. But of course they are. Anyone can become a citizen. Not everyone can be cleared to practice medicine. There are questions about races of all sorts, their biology and their dosages and their anatomy. But all the words are familiar to Mandana. At least comprehension does not stand in the way of her medical license.

This test is not instantly graded as the citizenship test is. So when Mandana finishes, she has no idea whether or not she passed. It will take a couple days for the Federation Medical Association to review her answers and give her her grade and, hopefully, her license. 

She leaves the test feeling strangely empty. For the last year, studying has been her life. Now that the thing she studied for has come to pass, she is lost. She has no idea what to do next. 

"You could always go to the tree lighting," Nero says behind her, leaning against the door frame. "Entrench yourself in your new culture."

Mandana grinds her teeth. _Why are you showing up now? What changed in the last year?_

"You're a traitor," he says simply. 

Mandana straightens. _I did what was best for our son. You wouldn't understand._

Nero narrows his eyes. "What does that mean?"

She is arguing with a figment of her imagination. This is ridiculous. _You're not really here,_  she retorts, and on cue he vanishes, leaving her alone in the hallway. Disgusted with herself, Mandana fetches Oren from sick bay, where Nurse Chapel was watching him, and returns to her room. And she stays there for three days, dreading the hours leading up to the one year anniversary of her arrival. This, too, feels unhealthy, but she knows feeling these emotions will help her heal faster than burying them. Nero's apparition is proof of what happens when you bury your feelings. 

She wishes she had some picture of her home to go off of, something to remember ch'Rihan by, but she had boarded the shuttle with only the clothes on her back. She only has her memories, and she finds them growing dimmer. Part of her clings to what remains of them, but another, smaller part says it might be easier to let them go. The memories only hurt, and she knows there will never be a time when they will do anything else. 

As she is sitting there, wallowing, her door chimes. She stands, unsure of who it could be.Mandana crosses the room and opens the door to see Leonard and Chapel. She is surprised. 

"Can I help you?"

"The tree lighting is tonight in the rec room. We were wondering if you might want to go," Chapel says. 

Mandana opens her mouth, then shuts it and looks down. "I was actually going to stay in tonight. I'm not sure I feel up to celebrating."

Leonard rocks back on his heels, understanding. "It might be the best thing for you. You shouldn't have to be alone."

Chapel smiles at her. "It will take your mind off everything, I promise."

Mandana wants to say no. She wants to wallow in her grief tonight. She wants to feel it so that it will leave her. She wants to _get over it_. But then she looks over her shoulder at the inside of her room, and Nero is there, arms crossed, smiling her favorite lopsided smile. Her heart lurches. If staying in means facing him, she's not ready. 

"Okay," she relents. She collects Oren and sets off for the rec room with Leonard and Chapel. When they arrive, the tree is even more dazzling than before. The lights in the room are dimmed, most likely so that the lights on the tree will be seen. Silver tinsel and brightly colored ornaments hang from the boughs. Atop the tree sits a golden star, glittering in the dimness. It is breathtaking. 

Someone had the foresight to bring cookies and coffee. Mandana takes a cookie and breaks off a piece for Oren. He eats it happily. It seems that, like the play, half of the _Enterprise'_ s complement has shown up for the lighting. There is barely room to move. Mandana catches sight of Uhura, hand in hand with Spock, and waves at her. Uhura smiles, looking overjoyed that Mandana came. 

"So tell me," Mandana asks Leonard. "What exactly is this Christmas?"

"A winter holiday. It's all about family, and being close to the ones you love. It's why I didn't want you to be alone. Silly, I know, since you don't even celebrate, but no one should be alone tonight," Leonard explains. 

Mandana hikes Oren higher up on her hip. "Well, I'm a citizen now. I should celebrate."

"That's the spirt," Leonard says, and squeezes her shoulder. 

A hush falls over the crowd as the time of the tree lighting nears. Mandana doesn't see Captain Kirk anywhere, and wonders if he is on duty. A timer above the tree begins to count down, and the crew joins in, chanting the numbers as they drop. The energy is infectious. Mandana finds herself counting along, her heart racing in anticipation as it nears zero. They reach one, and then zero, and suddenly the dim room is illuminated by a blinding light. Dozens of twinkling lights on the tree are lit simultaneously, each one a different coloring, bathing the room in a multicolored glow. Light bounces off the ornaments and the tinsel, only adding to the beauty. Mandana exhales. She's never seen anything like it. 

Leonard is watching her with a smile on his face. "Are you glad you came?" he wonders. 

Mandana nods, eyes fixated on the tree. "Yes," she says. 

After the countdown, the crowds begin to disperse. Mandana has the space to make her way closer to the tree. Oren reaches out to grab one of the red ornaments dangling within his reach. He bats at it, entertained. 

"I don't suppose you had any holidays like this on Romulus," Leonard asks. 

Mandana looks down at her son. "Not exactly like this, no. But we had a winter festival. _Fhill'ytrin_ was to celebrate the winter solstice. It was meant as less of a family holiday and more for a time for couples to be together. Cold winter nights and all that," she explains. She tilts her head, looking up at the tree. 

"There was a river in my hometown," she explains to Leonard, "that would freeze over. It is where we'd go to skate. Those are perhaps my favorite memories of ch'Rihan."

"Skating, huh?" Leonard exchanges a knowing glance with Chapel, who stands beside him. She smiles.

"I can take Oren, if you'd like," she volunteers. Mandana frowns but hands the young boy over. 

"What--"

"There's something I want to show you," Leonard says, and steers her away from the tree. Mandana looks back at Oren. 

"Will it take long?"

"Depends," Leonard says. "But you'll love it. I promise."

Mandana has little choice but to follow him. He leads her to the lift, and they ride it down a couple floors to deck twelve. Leonard takes her through the corridors to a set of double sliding doors. They sweep open and Mandana's eyes widen. 

It's a sport court of some sort, but instead of a polished floor it is covered in ice. A number of _Enterprise_ personnel glide across this ice on skates. Mandana looks to Leonard, confused. Replicators certainly didn't do _this._

Leonard catches her expression and smiles. "It's a basketball court for three quarters of the year, but come December we like to make it a little more seasonal. It's designed to freeze over."

Mandana turns back to the makeshift skating rink, eyes wide. "Your ship may as well be a cruise liner," she finally says. 

Leonard laughs. “We don’t miss much out here. Come on," he says, and pulls her inside. "I didn't just bring you down here to show it off."

"But Oren--"

"Will be fine with Christine. You've taken two tests this week and could use a break, I think," Leonard surmises. Mandana _is_ excited to get on the ice. She grabs a pair of skates from a nearby rack and dons them. She notes that Leonard seems content to just stand by the rink. 

"You're not going to make me skate by myself, are you?" she asks. He eyes the ice. 

"I'm not much of a skater."

Mandana rolls her eyes. "Live a little." She grabs his hand and tugs him towards the ice. "I can show you how."

Leonard relents with a sigh and grabs himself a pair of skates. "You're not allowed to laugh," he orders, and Mandana smiles. 

"How bad can you really be?" she wonders. 

He is very bad, as it turns out, barely able to keep his balance on the ice. She skates in a circle around him as they go around the rink, grabbing his arm every so often to give him balance when he starts to topple. She hides a smile behind her hand. 

"Where did you live that you have never learned to skate?" she asks on their fourth rotation around the rink. It seems the rest of the humans have no problem gliding across the ice. 

Leonard glares, struggling to keep his balance. "A nice, sunny place called Georgia where it never gets below freezing," he grunts. He looks up at her. "Don't let my bad form get in the way."

"As you wish," Mandana says, and skates off. She builds up momentum before jumping off the ice, keeping her arms close to her body as she spins. She lands on one leg, and when she comes down a few nearby crewmen clap. Leonard looks impressed. 

"You really did do this a lot," he says. She shrugs. 

She and Nero celebrated  _Fhill'ytrin_ every year by walking the town, enjoying the decorations that adorned Mhiessan's streets, mugs of zehava in hand. They would exchange gifts--nothing extravagant, but small gifts, like a leaf from the park where they'd first kissed, or a nugget of arcybite from the tour where she'd first called him. Sentimental gifts. They always ended the night doing one of Mandana's favorite things: ice skating. 

The river that fed into Mhiessan's bay tended to freeze over just around the time of _Fhill'ytrin_. It was a popular spot for parents and children, but couples found their way there as well. Mandana, being a child of Water, loved anything to do with it. Swimming, skating, all were her strengths. Her father had encouraged this athletic side of her as a young girl and given her lessons. When Nero had suggested they go skating their first holiday together, Mandana had expected to skate circles around him. That was not the case. Nero was surprisingly graceful on the ice; no where near her skill, no, but he could keep up with her as she raced around the river. 

Mandana sighs at the memory, and out of the corner of her eye sees Nero standing at the edge of the rink. 

"Even when you're trying to avoid me, I'm still there," he says. Mandana sucks in a breath. Unbidden, tears prick at her eyes. She skates to the rink wall and hides her head. The memory threatens to overwhelm her. 

Behind her, she hears Leonard skate up. He hits the wall and turns to her, concerned. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Mandana says, brushing the tears from her eyes. "Yeah, I'll be fine. One day I will be able to do normal things without being reduced to tears."

Leonard smiles wryly at her. "You've got to give yourself time. It's only been a year."

"Perhaps," Mandana sighs. "It would be nice to reach a point of normalcy again, though."

"You'll get there, Mandy," he assures her. "Are you ready to go?"

Mandana looks back out over the ice. Yes, she thinks, she has had enough excitement for one day. She nods and the two of them pick their way off the rink. She is, all at once, exhausted, and leans against Leonard with a yawn, barely registering that her actions might be construed as inappropriate. Leonard looks at her, but doesn't push her away. Instead he wraps one arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. 

_Just friends_.

Chapel and Oren are surrounded by a gaggle of _Enterprise_ personnel when they return to the rec room. People on the ship really are starved for children, and many, like Chapel, seek the child out as often as possible. Oren is basking in the attention. He loves to be at the center of it all. As they approach, sense returns to Mandana and she pulls away from Leonard, self conscious. He doesn't say anything. 

"Mandana!" Chapel smiles at her. Oren catches sight of her and immediately reaches out for her. She pushes through the small crowd to pick up her son. The crewmembers disperse. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes," Mandana says, choosing to pretend she hadn't nearly dissolved into tears on the ice. "But I think it's time for bed now." She holds her son's hand and he yawns. 

"Yes, it's been a big day for him," Chapel agrees. 

"I'll walk you back to your room," Leonard offers.

Mandana raises an eyebrow. "Such a gentleman," she says.

He smiles at her. "I've also got something for you."

"Another ice rink?" Mandana jokes as they begin to walk towards the entrance. He laughs.

"Nothing so extravagant," he says. "Come on."

They make it back to Mandana's room in no time and pause before the door. Here, Leonard produces a black leather box. It is small, pocket sized, and plain. Mandana eyes it, suspicious.

"What is it?"

"You're supposed to open it. That's the whole point of gift giving, isn't it?" he says. 

Mandana reaches a hesitant hand out and takes the box. It is lightweight in her hand. She has no idea what it could possibly be. With a last look at Leonard she pries it open. Inside, sitting on a bed of velvet, is a Starfleet insignia bearing a cross at its center. Mandana's brows pull together. 

"The results of your FMLEs came back," Leonard explains. "You passed."

Mandana opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. She shouldn't be surprised. She _knew_ she'd pass, didn't she? 

"That is your official, Starfleet-recognized badge, required at all times while working in sick bay."

Mandana looks up to him. "You still want me in your sick bay?"

"Of course. You've done nothing to make me think you wouldn't be a welcome addition. And considering how short staffed we are, we could use all the help we can get."

Mandana's lip twitches upwards into a smile. "But what about Oren? Nurse Chapel can't be watching him all the time. She has a job to do."

Leonard waves her off. "We'll figure that out. I don't think you'll have any trouble finding someone willing to look after him." Mandana tends to agree with him, after seeing just how popular he was at the tree lighting.

"So what do you say?" 

Mandana runs her fingers over the insignia. Nero is behind Leonard, frowning. She sets her jaw. "Okay."

* * *

_My relationship with Nero was almost blissful. I'd been in other relationships, sure, but none were as easy and effortless as it was with him. It was always hard when he left for another tour, but we were able to comm each other day or night. He may as well not have been gone at all. Adyrra kept me busy when Nero was unable to talk._

_"I know how it is," she said with a smile._

_Three months into Nero's third tour since we were together, Adyrra gave me a call on my day off._

_"I'm moving to a new flat," she said, "and I could really use a hand packing if you're free."_

_I was. I was always free. Most of my friends were in deep space, after all. So the next morning, on my day off, I took the_ _yhfi-ss'ue to her old apartment. It was a beautiful day, with Eisn shining high in ch'Rihan's sky. Adyrra's old flat was in downtown Mhiessan, with a street view on the ground floor. It was much smaller than mine, but I found it cozy. I wondered where she was moving to. Hopefully not too far away; I'd never survive Nero's mining tours without her._

_"Thank the Elements you're here," Adyrra said when I showed up at her doorstep._

_"What's going on?" I asked her, stepping into the apartment proper._

_"My landlord. I was late on rent and he decided he'd had enough of me," she answered. "I have to be out in two days." I was immediately sympathetic. I had never been in such a position, and I hoped Adyrra knew that if she ever needed money all she had to do was ask. But I also knew better than to offer outright, especially in light of her eviction._

_"Do you have a new place lined up?" I wondered._

_Adyrra blew a strand of hair out of her face. "I'm working on it."_

_"If you need a place to stay..."_

_"I'll find something, Mandana," Adyrra assured me. I nodded._

_"So where should we start?" I asked, surveying the living room. It was a mess of boxes and items sorted into like piles. Adyrra waved a hand at the chaos._

_"Pick a pile and start packing."_

_I did just that, honing in on the nearest one. It appeared to be mostly linens. We worked in tandem, chatting idly. Adyrra was understandably stressed and I think my talking to her helped calm her down. It was an awful situation, sure, but at least she knew she wasn't alone. Like me, her only friends seemed to be miners. We needed each other._

_We bounced from pile to pile, and slowly the chaos grew into something almost orderly as items were boxed up. The second to last pile was a jumble of picture holodiscs, all nicely labeled with what that particular holodisc held. Many of them seemed like all Adyrra had left of Ulauri. Isorted through "Fhelri's first steps", "Lake Day", and "s'Karil/s'Shurin wedding." Most only earned just a fraction of my time, but one holodisc gave me pause. It said "Nero and Ilyhe." I frowned and flicked the holo on._

_It was Nero, but much younger. Practically a teenager. And in his arms was a gorgeous dark-haired woman of about the same age. They were making faces at the camera, and then laughing. A ridiculous spike of jealousy hit me--whoever this Ilyhe was, she was long gone now. Nero had never even mentioned her. I had nothing to be worried about._

_"Adyrra, who's this?"_

_Adyrra looked up, and her face paled when she saw what I was holding. She scrambled out from behind a stack of boxes and reached for the holodisc._

_"Exactly who it says it is," she said. "Nero and Ilyhe."_

_"Yeah, but who's Ilyhe?"_

_Adyrra took the holodisc from me and looked sadly at it. "That's a story for Nero to tell."_

_"He's never mentioned her," I said._

_Adyrra nodded. She was suddenly so down, when just moments before she'd been joking right along with me. Whatever had happened to Ilyhe, it wasn't good. "I don't suppose he would. But you may as well be family now, and you have a right to know. Here," Adyrra handed the holodisc back to me. "Give this to Nero when he gets back. Hopefully he'll open up."_

_I pocketed the holodisc. "I'm going to talk to him tonight. I'll ask him then."_

_Adyrra nodded. "Just...just be prepared for some resistance."_

_I was very curious, and spent the rest of the time with Adyrra thinking about what could have happened to this Ilyhe. Did she have something to do with the tragedy that befell s'Karil? We finished packing up not long after. Adyrra stepped back to survey the few dozen boxes that littered her living room. "Now I just need a place to put all this," she said. Once again I turned to her._

_"Really, if you need a place to stay, I have an extra couch room," I told Adyrra. She smiled sincerely._

_"Thank you. If it comes to that, I'll let you know. But you'd better get going. It's late."_

_That it was. Eisn had already set on Mhiessan's bay, and the first stars were stubbornly forcing their way through the light pollution. I bid my friend good bye and took off for my apartment, the holodisc weighing heavily in my pocket. When I got home I commed Nero almost immediately. He picked up not long after._

_"Good to see your face again," he said, leaning forward. I smiled, but it was distracted. "How have you been?"_

_"Adyrra is moving," I said. "I helped her pack today."_

_Nero made a face. "Is it her landlord?"_

_"Yeah, he's evicting her."_

_"Perfect," he grumbled. "I wish I was there to help her."_

_"I wish you were here, too," I said. "I found something in her apartment."_

_"Oh?"_

_"Yeah." I pulled out the holodisc and showed him. His reaction was immediate. He went from open and relaxed to suddenly tense a closed off._

_"Did you look at it?" he asked._

_I nodded. "I was just wondering who Ilyhe was. Adyrra said that was a story for you to tell."_

_"She's no one," Nero said forcefully._

_I blinked. "She's not no one in the picture. She clearly meant something to you."_

_"She's. No one," he bit out. I was taken aback by his almost...aggressive response._

_"Adyrra said you wouldn't be happy, but she also said--"_

_Nero rubbed his hands over his face. "Look, Mandana, I really don't want to talk about this right now. Wait until I get home, okay?"_

_I was miffed. "Nothing's going to change once you're home."_

_"I know, but just...please." His voice sounded so pathetic, so miserable, that I let it slide._

_"Okay," I said. We talked for a little bit after that, but neither of us was really paying attention. When we signed off I felt empty. Nero had clearly clocked out of the conversation after I'd agreed to wait until he got home. I wondered if I'd put a rift between us just by asking._

_I was even more worried when Nero didn't answer my calls for the next two weeks, and when I took a shuttle up to welcome him home after the tour he was stiff and awkward._

_"Do you want to go out and talk?" I asked, not specifically meaning about Ilyhe. I just wanted to now what was going on with him. He refused to look me in the eye._

_"I'm tired. I'm just going home."_

_"Or you could come home with me. It's been a long few months," I tried._

_He winced. "Really, I'm tired. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"_

_"Okay," I said, feeling emptier than before._

_He never called me. Now I was getting angry. I understood that some subjects were difficult to talk about, but this was becoming childish. I knew he was avoiding me on purpose and I was hurt. I called Adyrra at her new apartment to vent._

_"What the hell is his problem?" I growled, finger tapping angrily on my desktop._

_Adyrra didn't look surprised. "This is a hard subject for him."_

_"That's not an excuse to be an ass," I argued._

_Adyrra smiled ruefully. "I get where you're coming from, I do. I'll talk to him."_

_"Thank you," I said. "I'm sorry to drag you into this."_

_Adyrra shrugged. "I'm partly responsible for bringing this up. I should at least have some say in the resolution."_

_It was two more days before I saw Nero. I had just gotten off a double shift at the medical center and took my regular yhfi-ss'ue back to the station. There, sitting at the bench we had so often shared, was Nero. He was quite obviously anxious to be there, his leg bouncing and his fingers nervously tapping on his knee. He stood when he saw me._

_"Mandana..."_

_I brushed passed him like he wasn't even there. Two could play his game._

_"I deserve that," he said. "If you still want to talk, we can."_

_"You better have a good explanation," I said, still not turning around._

_"I do," he said. I sighed and turned._

_"Okay," I said, jerking my head towards downtown. "Let's go."_

_We went to a small cafe only a block from my apartment and took the table in the back. Nero still wouldn't look me in the eye. I ordered mug of zehava and Nero ordered nothing._

_"So," I said, looking down at my drink. "Spill."_

_Nero took a breath and began._

_Fifteen years ago, Nero's family had been wealthy. Nearly as rich as House Verraet, nearly as powerful on Ulauri. They ran the arcybite refinery that funded the planet's capitol city. It was the number one job provider in the area, giving over four hundred families an income. The refinery and surrounding grounds were huge, stretching over three hundred acres. And Nero, at the young age of twenty-two, practically ran it._

_He was an engineer that spent his time making sure the machines were running properly. And not just_ an _engineer, but_ the _engineer, responsible for training all new employees and overseeing the veterans. Ilyhe was one such new employee. She was bright, tough, a fast learner. By the second week of training she was miles ahead of the other two engineers who had been hired with her._

_She and Nero spent quite a lot of time together in enclosed spaces, where he would instruct her in the finer machinations of the refining instruments. She soaked it up like a sponge. And, Nero thought, she was ready to run the floor after only a year with the refinery._

_Throughout the training period, they had grown close. Even though they spent most of their time together at work, they still chose to be together even after hours. They were so close, in fact, that Nero was all but ready to propose. Ilyhe had not-so-subtly been dropping hints that that's exactly what she wanted, and Nero wanted the proposal to be absolutely perfect._

_"I need you to run the floor tomorrow," he told her one day, hoping to sneak off for only a few hours to run an "errand."_

_Ilyhe raised her eyebrows. "Really? I'm still technically on my probationary period."_

_"And you're already better than half the engineers in this place," Nero assured her. "You'll do fine."_

_Ilyhe was still hesitant. Nero wrapped her in his arms and kissed her temple. "If you do this for me I'll make it worth your while," he said._

_She turned around and lay her head on his chest. "Promise?"_

_Nero chuckled. "Promise."_

_And so it went that the next day Ilyhe was in charge of the floor. At first everything was going fine...until it wasn't. One of the machines began to overheat, and Ilyhe ordered it shut down. But the terminal didn't respond to her commands—someone would have to turn it off manually. This was dangerous, though, considering how hot the machine was getting. But it was Ilyhe's job, and so she began the ascent to the manual shut off._

_It was scorching hot when she reached the catwalk, almost hot enough to burn. Ilyhe powered through the heat, looking for the switch. She found herself wishing Nero was there. He would have known a safer way to do this. She found the switch in no time, but when she pressed it nothing happened. Now panic started to set in. The machine continued to grow hotter and hotter, and sweat poured down Ilyhe's forehead._

_"Come on!" she shouted, and kicked at the switch._

_And the machine exploded. It took the other machines in the refinery with it, causing a chain reaction that traveled throughout the complex. Fires broke out, burning hot and devouring everything in their path. Fire ships raced to the scene, dousing the flames in water, but the fuel from the machines served as an accelerant. The fire didn't die down until over half of the plant had been reduced to a smoldering wreck._

_The death count was astronomical. There wasn't a family on Ulauri who didn't lose someone in the fire, but House Karil suffered most of all. The only two to survive were Adyrra, who had been home sick, and Nero, who had left his post. Brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and, above all, Ilyhe, were dead._

_I sat rooted to the spot, absorbing it all. My heart ached for Nero just then. I reached across the table to rest my hand over his. He had retold the entire story in an emotionless voice, keeping his eyes fixated on one spot on the table. Now he fell silent, not moving a muscle._

_"I'm sorry," I said, at a loss for any other words._

_Nero took a shuddering breath. "After the explosion, my family's other operations were called into question. Just how safe were they? Overnight they were shut down and we lost everything. Our family, our life. Adyrra and I had nothing left on Ulauri, so we came here."_

_I shook my head. "That's awful. I'm so, so sorry."_

_"I...I've never even told Adyrra all this," he continues. "About it being my fault. I know she'd never forgive me."_

_"It wasn't your fault," I told him gently. "It was a freak accident, nothing anyone could have anticipated, and you likely would have been unable to fix the problem anyway. If you hadn't left you would have been killed in the explosion. The Elements were watching out for you."_

_"They weren't looking out for Ilyhe," he said in a thick voice. I gave his hand a squeeze._

_"Thank you for telling me," I said._

_Here he looked up, and forced a smile. It didn't reach his eyes. "You had a right to know. I'm sorry I was such a jerk about it."_

_"No, no," I said. He had every right to be an ass. I couldn't imagine what it took to retell that tale. "Don't be sorry."_

_We sat in silence, Nero thinking and myself unable to come up with the words to comfort him. I felt so useless right then._

_"Come back to my place," I tried. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."_

_Nero nodded and didn't argue. We left the cafe, hand in hand. I couldn't fix the problem, no, but I could at least make sure he wasn't alone._


	11. Rockabye

Mandana is eager to start working again. With her medical license earned and her citizenship solidified, the next hurdle is Starfleet. She sends in her application immediately, praying for a quick response. The time after her tests, where she's had nothing to do for most of the day, has been agonizing. She wants to _do_ something, to finally earn her keep. 

Figuring out what to do with Oren during her shifts turns out to not be the problem she anticipated. It isn't hard to find crew members willing to watch him, especially now that he's learning to talk and is beginning to stand on his own. He has the entire child-starved crew enamored. Many of them are parents themselves, having gone back to work after their children had grown up. Mandana sighs and crosses her arms as she watches a crewman holding a toy model _Enterprise_ up to her son's face. Oren claps happily and reaches for it. She may not feel at home, but this crew is his family. Once more she feels the familiar fear that he will never know who he really is, or worse yet, that he would reject what he is in favor of what he knows. But these fears are thus far unwarranted; he is only just over a year old. She has plenty of time to teach him.

He speaks his first word in Rihannsu not too long after she sends out her application-- _aevr_. It means "fly", his favorite thing to do with other people. Leonard, in particular, is responsible for teaching him this word. The doctor has taken to tossing the young boy up in the air and catching him, much to Oren's delight. 

"What's the Romulan word?" he asks Mandana, knowing how worried she is about her son learning his culture. 

" _Aevr_ ," Mandana says, to which Leonard frowns. 

"Ay-verr." 

Mandana laughs. "Close enough," she says.

Oren catches on quickly. "Aevr!" he cries, and Leonard tosses him up again. Oren comes down, giggling. Mandana can't begin to explain the relief she feels upon first hearing it. 

She speaks to Oren only in Rihannsu now, knowing he will get plenty of exposure to Standard while he is being watched by the _Enterprise_ crew.

With Oren taken care of, she is officially considered to be a member of the sick bay's staff. Her first day is merely orientation, familiarizing herself with the layout of the sick bay and the equipment itself. That is an adjustment to make, considering all the state-of-the-art equipment on the _Enterprise_ is hopelessly antiquated by her standards. 

"Why not simply use the tricorder's rapid result bacterial setting?" Mandana asks when Leonard informs her that blood cultures can take up to three days to come back

"Its what?" he asks. 

"It is an input that can rapidly identify any circulating bacteria or fungi within the bloodstream."

Leonard shakes his head. "That'd be nice to have, but I don't think it exists."

Mandana looks sheepishly away, realizing such a setting has yet to be invented. 

The ancient instrumentation will take some getting used to, but thankfully most of it is not often used. Most of the injuries the sick bay sees are sprained muscles and broken bones, and very rarely is there an infection, as the transporters also serve as decontaminators when visiting new worlds. It is good to be familiar with the machines, but they are not commonly turned on. 

Leonard introduces her to the rest of the sick bay staff, but it is just a formality. Most of them Mandana already knows—the nurses, the doctors, all have seen her when she comes for her regular sessions with Leonard. 

"And lastly," he stops before a digital board displaying names and numbers. "This is our away team rotation chart. It determines who will be accompanying the next team on an away mission."

Mandana eyes it. "My name is not on it."

"Well, yeah. Being on an away team requires training. Why? Do you want to be on it?" Leonard asks. "After last time?"

Mandana shrugs. "It seems only fair that I also serve. If I am accepted into Starfleet and assigned to another ship, I will be expected to do my duty."

"Huh," Leonard looks at the chart. "I'd have to ask the captain, but if the mission doesn't involve potential contact with another race, I don't see why you couldn't go."

"I'll just know to stay out of caves," Mandana says dryly, and Leonard laughs. 

She has just two days of orientation. Two days, and then she is expected to be able to fulfill her duties as a starship doctor. Two days, and then she starts taking patients. She does not deny that she is, in fact, nervous. 

Many of her first patients are surprised to see her; they'd seen her around the ship, they knew about Oren, but they clearly didn't know she was also a doctor. Her first patient ever is a man named Bennett, who she knows she has heard of before. He is nursing a long gash on his leg.

"How did you ever get that?" Mandana asks as she runs the dermal regenerator over the wound. The injury itself is too large to be completely healed by the device, but it closes off the damaged blood vessels enough to stem the flow of blood. 

Bennett laughs. "Ice hockey, if you believe it. My stick snapped and I gouged myself pretty bad." 

"I'll say," Mandana says, leaning back to admire her handiwork. For an ancient healing tool, it performed well, she thought. "Try putting weight on it."

Bennett does, and he winces, but he is able to stand. 

"You don't need crutches to get around, at least. This won't affect your duty schedule."

"Thank God," Bennett says. "Who knows how many times we've had to switch that around because I injured myself."

Mandana smiles and dismisses him. The rest of her patients for the day are easy—a sprained wrist here, a concussion there. There is a lot of downtime between patients. The injuries on an exploration ship are few and far between. Unless there is an away mission, or a border skirmish with one of the other civilizations surrounding Federation space, the only real danger the crew faces is themselves. 

This holds true for a man named Smith, who finds himself on her bio bed after falling down a Jeffries tube and breaking his arm. He looks bored when she enters the room, but once he catches sight of her he is immediately on alert.

" _You're_ a doctor?" he says, and she doesn't like the way he says "you're," but she can do little about it. She nods. 

"Just passed the Federation exams, but I've been practicing for about ten years," she informs him. 

He narrows his eyes. "But you don't work on humans."

"Didn't I just say I passed the Federation exams? Half of those questions were on humans," she says lightly, trying not to let his prickly attitude get to her. 

She snaps a painkiller capsule into a hypo and goes to inject him, but he jerks away, hissing as he jostles his arm. "Don't touch me."

Mandana runs her tongue over her teeth. "You really want me to set your arm without any painkiller?"

"I don't want you setting my arm at _all_ ," Smith says. 

Now Mandana is getting annoyed. "Well, Piper and McCoy and Shon are all busy, so I'm all you've got."

"If my choice is between a terrorist and a hurting arm, I'll take the hurting arm."

Mandana is struck dumb. "Excuse me?"

Smith glares at her. "You heard me. All your kind are the same. I don't know what the captain is thinking, letting you serve here, but you're not touching me. I don't trust you not to _kill_ me."

Mandana has no words. _Terrorist._ She knows not everyone on the _Enterprise_ welcomes her. She _knows_ this. She'd known it when she earned her citizenship and news sites were filled with commentators saying she would be the Federation's downfall. Her husband had made the Federation races a fearful bunch of people, and she can't _blame_ them, but feeling the effects of that fear instead of just reading about them has left her speechless. 

Slowly, anger starts to boil in the pit of her stomach. She glares at Smith. "Don't be an idiot. You will be waiting a long time before any of the other doctors have a chance to see you. How am I going to kill you by setting your arm?"

Smith eyes the hypo in her hand. "A lethal dose of painkiller? I don't know. How did a miner destroy a planet?"

"Alright, fine." Mandana pops the capsule out of the hypo and turns around. "Then you're dismissed. If you won't let me treat you, there's no reason to keep you here."

Smith hops off the bio bed, cradling his arm. He glares at her as he leaves. Mandana turns from the door, hands gripping the counter until her knuckles turn white. There is no one else in the intake room of the sick bay, so she has plenty of time to stew in anger before her shift is over. As she is cleaning up the room, preparing for beta shift to take over, she hears someone enter. She turns to see Leonard there, watching her with an odd look. 

"Had a patient today say you refused to treat him."

Mandana seethes. "Is that what he said," she bites out.

Leonard nods. "I just thought I'd get your side of the story."

Mandana picks up a jar of cotton swabs and stuffs them in a cabinet. "He _refused_ me, after calling me a terrorist."

Leonard's brows pull together. "What?"

Mandana continues. "I understand people might not like me here, but I was only trying to help—"

"Wait, Mandy, hold on. He called you a _terrorist_?"

"Yes," Mandana says, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. 

Leonard shakes his head. "That's not okay."

"Well, okay or not, that's what he said. Thought I was trying to overdose him on painkillers or something equally foolish." She taps her finger on the countertop, agitated. 

"I'll have to let Captain Kirk know about this," Leonard says. 

Mandana eyes him. "What good will that do?"

"He'll likely get a reprimand. Discrimination is not allowed anywhere within Starfleet."

"I'd hardly call it discrimination," Mandana says, unsure why she is defending Smith. Maybe because she understands where he's coming from. Maybe because her suspicious nature would make her do the exact same thing in his position. 

"People need to understand that you're a part of this vessel now, Mandy. Like it or not, they have to accept you. I'll talk to Kirk."

Mandana exhales through her nose. "If you think it will do any good."

"It will," Leonard says.

* * *

Leonard finds Jim later that night, in the rec room, playing a game of 3D chess with Spock. And losing miserably. It doesn't matter that Jim is a chess whiz back on Earth, there is just no competing against Spock. Jim sighs as Spock takes his second rook.

"Why do I even try?" he mutters. 

"Perhaps next time your strategy will be more sound," Spock consoles him.

Jim laughs. "Perhaps." He looks up as Leonard approaches the table. 

"Bones! Come to support me in my final hour?"

Leonard glances at the chessboard, where Jim's remaining knight, handful of pawns, and king sit forlornly surrounded by Spock's bishops and queen. He pulls up a chair. 

"I'm no expert but I think you're losing," he says. 

Jim rolls his eyes. "So supportive. What can I do for you?"

"A couple of things. I wanted to know if you'd heard any more from Dessel about the investigation."

Jim shakes his head and moves a pawn in front of his king, protecting the piece. "Silence on the home front. I think they've hit a dead end."

"And so far they don't have nearly enough to accuse the Romulan Star Empire of any wrongdoing," Spock says. He knocks Jim's pawn aside with his bishop. The captain groans. 

"I also had a few questions about Mandy."

Jim gives Leonard a look, amused. This is the first he's heard of the nickname. They are close, this Romulan and his CMO. "Mandy?"

"Sorry, Doctor t'Karil."

"What about her?" Jim studies the board, looking for a move that won't ultimately put him in check. 

"One of her patients called her a terrorist today."

Now Jim looks up, and even Spock takes notice. 

"Who?"

"Smith. From Engineering."

Jim frowns. "I'll talk to him. And tell the crew that anything further will result in disciplinary action."

"Sooner would be better. Mandana wants to join the away team rotation and she can't do that if half the crew refuses to be treated by her."

Spock tilts his head. "She wants to join the away team rotation? She is not yet a member of Starfleet. It would be against regulations."

"Depends on the away mission," Leonard says. "Starfleet regulations don't say anything about the medical personnel accompanying the away team _needing_ to also be Starfleet themselves as long as there’s no possibility of first contact."

Spock looks stumped, perhaps surprised Leonard knows a single regulation better than him. 

Jim shrugs. “On some away missions, yeah, she could easily join the rotation."

"Thank you," Leonard says. 

"And I'll let you give _Mandy_ the news that she can join," Jim says lightly, tilting his head down and giving Leonard a look. The doctor catches on and swats Jim on the shoulder. 

"Doctor t'Karil to you," he says, and leaves Jim and Spock to their chess game.

* * *

Time flies now that Mandana is working in the sick bay. It occupies most of her day, and the nights are spent with Oren. She only occasionally has a free day, and when she does she spends it with Uhura. Mandana has much to learn about Federation games, and Uhura has taken it upon herself to teach her. They start with something called "poker," a bluffing game that neither of them is very good at.

"If you are so bad, why bother to teach me?" Mandana asks one day. They speak only Rihannsu to each other now, and Oren is learning more words in his native tongue.

"Because everyone needs to know how to play poker," Uhura explains. 

Mandana is also happy to learn that she has been added to the away team rotation. The memory of her last away mission has left a bad taste in her mouth, and she is eager to replace it with something good. It is four months into her time working on the _Enterprise_ that her time of rotation comes up. It being her first rotation, once more Leonard is responsible for showing her the procedures. 

They beam down to a planet—them being Mandana, Leonard, Kirk, and two security officers, and a handful of scientists. Spock remains aboard the ship to oversee the mission from above. The planet they beam down to is lovely, Mandana thinks. They are in the middle of a field of waist-high grass that grows an interesting blue color, and the sky is a pale green. Red and yellow wildflowers dot the field. A soft breeze causes everything to dance and sway, and Mandana thinks she has forgotten what fresh air tastes and feels like. She inhales deep. 

They are there to see if the world could be a potential colonizing site for the Federation, seeing as it strategically located only a few lightyears from the Klingon neutral zone. Mandana thinks she wouldn't mind living here. 

They are there until sunset, and when they beam back up Leonard looks at her. 

"Does this make up for last time?" he asks.

Mandana nods. It did. She only wishes Oren could have been there. He's never set foot on solid ground before.

Another month passes, and Mandana's rotation comes up again. This time, Leonard says, she will go alone.

"Alone?" she asks. 

Leonard catches her drift. “Yes. I won't be with you, but you know the procedures. All you have to do is what you've been trained to do."

It sounds simple enough, and Mandana is eager to prove her worth. So she dons a tricorder and sets off for the transporter room, alone. 

She meets Kirk and Spock at the base of the transporter. Only two scientists have joined them, with two security men in red. They all looked surprised to see her. 

"No McCoy?" Kirk asks. 

Mandana shakes her head. "Not this time. He says I'm good to go down solo."

"This planet does fit within the criteria for civilians beaming down," Spock informs Kirk. They are there because of the large deposits of magnesite found deep within the rock. However, because of the presence of the magnesite, not much else is known about the planet. It scatters their sensors far too much. 

Kirk shrugs. "Well okay. Glad to have you with us."

This new planet is different still than the other worlds she has been on. It is covered in dense forests that line rocky streams. A preliminary scan reveals that most of the magnesite is within the planet's crust, beneath their feet. It will take some digging to get to.

Nero makes an appearance for the first time in a while. He surveys the planet, arms crossed. "It's planets like these that we'd strip mine," he says. Mandana ignores him. 

She follows the away team as they go along, scanning the ground and making note of any substantial mineral deposits they find. The job of the away team doctor is a boring one, Mandana thinks. There is very little for her to do outside of enjoy the scenery. Much like security, who look just as bored as her. 

The surveyors survey, Kirk and Spock discuss the ramifications of what is being surveyed, the the doctor and the security team bide their time. 

"Are away missions always this uneventful?" Mandana asks one of the security personnel, a short woman with dark hair. 

The woman shakes her head. "If the planet is inhabited, things are far more exciting, I hear. These survey missions are safe, but ultimately dull."

Dull, indeed. Mandana spends her time poring over the local flora, marveling at how much different it is from ch'Rihan's. The forest is teeming with life, and animal calls can be heard ringing through the tree trunks. She stops to observe one particular plant, bearing blue flowers and red thorns. She doesn't hear Spock come up behind her and almost starts when she hears his voice. 

"It is best to stay with the landing party," he informs her. 

Mandana glances up and sees they've moved far along. She straightens. "I didn't realize you had moved so far ahead. My apologies."

Spock nods at her and motions her forward. She makes a move but freezes when she hears something. She looks around behind her, searching for the source of the noise. It must be an animal, she thinks; this planet is uninhabited. But something sticks in her mind and she looks back at the flower with blue flowers and red thorns. Beneath it, she sees something silver and glinting, and in the split second before she realizes it’s a trap, she hears the sound of air being displaced. She whirls around in time to see a wooden arrow fly by her face. It strikes the tree, the one her head had been in front of moments before. She gasps and looks at Spock, but he is already moving.

"We're not alone," he shouts, and the rest of the away team is on the alert. More arrows follow on the heels of the first, and security fires back with their phasers on stun setting. Mandana races forward on Spock's heels, desperate to get back to the away team. 

_Uninhabited my ass_ , she thinks, dodging another arrow. The magnesite must have prevented their sensors from picking up on the alien life forms. She and Spock are rushing ever closer to the away team when an alien pops their head down out of the trees. Mandana doesn't have time to duck before a dart hits her in the neck. 

_Poison_. And she drops.

* * *

Part of her is surprised to wake up in the land of the living. Poison usually means death, and she expected her next memories would be of Vorta Vor. But here she is, coming back to consciousness, her head pounding from whatever the aliens had laced their darts with. She goes to rub a hand to her head and realizes that they are tied behind her with some sort of rope.

" _Fvadt_ ," she curses and shakes her head to clear it. When she opens her eyes she sees she is inside a tent of some sort, tied to a pole at the center. Beside her is a second pole, and tied to it she sees Spock. He is watching her. 

"It is good to see that you are awake," he says. 

Mandana winces. "Wish I wasn't. Where's everyone else?"

"I anticipate they were able to beam off planet. I have not seen anyone else since waking up here."

"Perfect," Mandana mutters, and struggles against her bonds. "I don't suppose they left us a communicator so we could be rescued?"

Spock shakes his head.

"They were very thorough in their search of us, apparently. Your tricorder is gone as well."

Up until then, Mandana has kept her cool. But she is not supposed to be in this situation.Something about this knowledge forces it to sink in: she may not get out of this. It is the cave all over again. Her mind flashes to Oren, and fear arcs through her. What will he do without her?

_Calm down,_ she tells herself. _You're not dead yet._ She takes a few deep breaths to center herself. Then she fights against the rope that holds her, rubbing it up and down the pole in hopes of fraying it. 

Spock watches her all the while. "You're energy would be better spent waiting for them to move us. Even I can't break these ropes."

And if he couldn't break them, what hope does Mandana have? She pauses and shakes her hair out of her face. Then she turns to him. 

"So that's the plan? We wait? What if they don't come back?"

"There is more in this tent than just us," Spock says, and looks around the space. There, surrounding them, are wooden boxes filled with...food. They are, for all intents and purposes, in the pantry. Mandana hopes that doesn’t mean they are about to be food. "Logic dictates that they will come for us eventually. And then we will make our escape."

Mandana shakes her head. "I can't wait that long." She attacks her bonds with renewed vigor. Spock is giving her a disapproving look and anticipates the reason behind her franticness. 

"Wasting your energy will not get you back to your son any sooner,"

"Oh, Spock," Mandana says with an exasperated laugh. "You underestimate what a mother will do to get back to her child." She pulls hard against the ropes, and they resist. She scratches them against the pole some more, tries again. This time they snap. 

If it is possible for a Vulcan to be impressed, then that is Spock. Mandana stands and moves to remove his own restraints, but stops when she hears a sound outside the tent. Not ready to face their captors just yet, Mandana sits back down at her pole with her hands behind her back, careful to angle them away from the tent flap so they will not see that she is free. 

The alien that enters is humanoid in stature, but they are covered head to toe in fur. They stand at around two meters tall, and their face is long and pointed. They eye her and Spock with four pairs of glittering red eyes. A wicked looking knife is held loosely in one hand. They are chattering in their native tongue. Mandana bumps the intradermal translator in her jaw with her shoulder, and though it takes a few moments for the translation matrix to catch up to the alien's fast-paced talking, eventually she is able to understand what they are saying. 

“—trespassed on Lavit'nu'k territory," they continue. "For your your crimes and the breaking of this treaty you will be put to death."

"Wait, treaty?" Mandana asks. "What treaty?"

The alien frowns at her, perhaps wondering why they are hearing two voices from one being. The alien straightens. 

"The Treaty of Hrysh'sut'n, whereby your kind was not to cross the Great River," the alien explains. 

Mandana exchanges a glance with Spock. He stares back at her, equally confused.

"I'm sorry, we've never heard of this treaty before. To our knowledge none of our people have visited this world," Spock says.

The alien is angry. "You came to this world with fire weapons and we fought back. We did not kill the Pointed Ears, but spared them on the promise that none would cross the Great River. And here you have betrayed our generosity."

"How long ago was this?" Mandana asks. 

The alien squares their shoulders. "One orbit ago," they answer. 

_One orbit._ Did they mean planetary year? This is a recent trespass. Mandana throws Spock a glance. Perhaps the remaining Vulcans tried to settle here? But no, they were on Natala. Who, then, could have visited here? It certainly couldn't have been Rihannsu. This planet was far from the Neutral Zone. 

"We are very sorry to have broken this treaty," Spock says. "If you were to let us go we would be able to tell the rest of our people about it."

"No!" the alien says. "You had your chance! You will now be an example, and we will mount your heads on our city walls." The alien lifts their weapon and places it against Spock's neck. Mandana sees that it is now or never and leaps up, tackling the alien. The knife skitters from their grip. She immediately clamps a hand over their mouth, to keep them from alerting whoever might be outside the tent. She is promptly shoved off, and her head smacks against the pole that had restrained her. Her already-aching head now protests even more. 

The alien produces another knife, this one shorter and not so evil looking, and advances on her. 

_Move_ , Mandana thinks, but she believes she now has a concussion because her movements are sluggish, like she's moving through gelatin. She has no ability to move away from her attacker. She raises one arm defensively, waiting for a blow that never comes. Confused, she lowers her arm and sees Spock standing above her, one hand pinched on the alien's shoulder, slowly setting them to the ground. He must have used the alien’s knife to free himself. Spock helps her to her feet. 

"Thanks," she says, her head still spinning. She puts a hand to her forehead. 

"Are you alright?"

"I'm going to have to be," she says.

Spock sets his mouth in a line. "We must locate our equipment if we want to return to the _Enterprise_."

"Right, yeah. How are we going to do that?"

The both of them brush aside the tent flap, and find they are looking out into a village of tents, surrounded on all sides by logs that stand erect in the ground, their tops shaved to a fine point. Aliens in leather clothing mill among the tents, talking in that strange language of theirs. It seems odd that the _Enterprise_ was unable to detect a civilization of this size, but then again, Mandana doesn't know just how magnesite works. It's possible that the sensors could not penetrate through the field the mineral produced. 

The entrance through the fence of logs is on the other side of the village, but, Mandana reminds herself, they don't necessarily need to get there. They just need to find Spock's communicator. 

"Where should we start looking?"

Spock frowns. "We will just have to search tent by tent. Stay close."

Mandana doesn't argue and trails behind him. They weave their way around to the next tent, only to find that it is empty of everything. No aliens, no food, no communicator or tricorder. Nothing but a dirt floor. They move on to the next tent—filled with animal furs—and the next tent—filled with more food. They are inching ever closer to the populated areas of the village, and Mandana is uneasy being this close to the aliens who want to mount her head on a spike. Before they can enter the next tent, Mandana catches sight of something out of the ordinary. She nudges Spock. 

"Look, that tent over there," she motions with her chin to the perimeter of the village. "It has guards. Should we check there?"

Spock exhales. "It would seem that that is the most likely place to find our equipment. It will be difficult to sneak in."

"If we go in from behind, we might be able to sneak underneath the tent," Mandana reasons. Spock nods. 

"We will attempt that."

They snake their way over to the guarded tent. Mandana presses her back against the wooden fence, heart pounding in her side.

"Stay here. I will check the tent," Spock orders. Mandana nods as he sneaks over to the canvas. He slips underneath it, and all at once she hears the sounds of a scuffle. 

_Spock can handle it,_ she reasons, but the fight continues and it has attracted the attention of aliens outside of the tent. Mandana is torn between following orders and going in after her commanding officer. She hears someone grunt and decides she can stay put no longer. With a deep breath she dives underneath the tent into utter chaos. 

There are four guards surrounding the tricorder and the communicator, and all of them are going after Spock. One is sporting a knife not unlike the large one carried by the first alien they met. Mandana will be no help in a brawl. It has been ages since her time in the Imperial Fleet; she remembers next to nothing about how to fight. Instead, her eyes zoom in on the communicator. If she can just get to it—

She is spotted. One of the four guards breaks away from Spock and comes after her. She has no more time. Mandana lunges for the communicator, flipping it open. 

"Two to beam up!" she shouts, and throws herself into the fray. Her arms wrap around Spock's midsection as she feels the familiar buzzing of the transporter, and they are whisked away to the safety of the _Enterprise._

Mandana doesn't release Spock until she is sure they have fully materialized. They stand, panting, on the transporter pad. Spock is bleeding from somewhere and Mandana straightens. He has a knife wound on his shoulder. 

"That's going to need to be seen," Mandana notes. Spock glances down at his shoulder, looking surprised he is even hurt. 

"Nothing you can't take care of," he notes. No, it would be an easy fix. They step off the transporter pad, and Mandana sways. She winces at her concussion. 

"I probably shouldn't be the one treating you, though," she says. Spock glances at her, concerned, and offers his arm to her. She takes it. 

"Alert Captain Kirk that we will be in sick bay," Spock tells the transporter attendant. She salutes and they are gone, Mandana practically staggering through the corridors. The bright lights from the ship do her headache no favors. 

All Mandana wants is to get back to her son, but first she must sit through Leonard healing Spock's shoulder, and she must sit through Leonard examining her head. 

"Where's Oren?" Mandana finally asks, and Leonard glances over his shoulder at Captain Kirk, who has entered the sick bay. 

"Ensign Miller is watching him. You can see him soon."

That's all Mandana wants. That, and a nap. 

"Before we let you go, we need to hear what happened to you on the surface," Kirk says sympathetically. 

Mandana sighs and looks at Spock. Together they launch into a retelling of what happened after they woke up in the tent. They reach the part about the treaty and Kirk's brows pull together. 

"They thought you'd been there before?  


"People like us," Spock says. 

"They called us "Pointed Ears"," Mandana adds. Kirk's expression is unreadable, but he doesn't pause on that. 

"Continue," he says.

And they do, finishing up their tale quickly. Kirk actually smiles at her.

"So far, your away missions haven't been the best experiences," he says.

Mandana laughs tiredly. "No, no they haven't."

"I have to ask, then, if you would like your name taken off the rotation. Clearly we can only do so much to keep you safe even on away missions that civilians are cleared for," he says. 

Mandana blinks. They want to remove her...? "Have I performed inadequately?" she asks.

Kirk looks surprised. "No, no, this isn't about you. This is about your safety. You don't have to continue with away missions if you don't want to."

Part of Mandana wants to say yes. She was so scared she would never see Oren again, she can't imagine leaving him once more and perhaps never coming back. But this is what she signed up for, isn't it? This is what it means to be a part of Starfleet. She won't be able to say no when she is actually assigned to a ship. 

And then, she thinks of Nero. How he would leave every few months even after nearly dying because of his chosen profession. How he would do it for them. She has to do this for Oren. If she is going to give him a life, she has to do this. 

"No, I think it best if you leave my name on the rotation. Everyone on the _Enterprise_ took a risk signing on, and if I want to be a member of Starfleet I don't have the right to do any differently," Mandana says. 

Leonard crosses his arms. "Noble of you," he says.

Kirk nods. "As you wish," he says, and steps aside. "Now I think your son would be happy to have his mother back."

Mandana stands, grateful for the release. She inclines her head towards her captain and exits the sick bay.

* * *

After Mandana leaves, Jim watches the door where she'd exited with an odd expression on his face.

"Pointed Ears?" he asks Spock.

"Affirmative, sir," he says. 

"You don't suppose whoever left the disruptor and the spare parts from the _Narada_ made their way to this planet, do you?" Leonard asks.

Jim bites the inside of his cheek. "I don't know, but I'd really like to find out."

"That may be difficult. The amount of magnesite found in the planet's crust will make locating anything on the planet's surface difficult."

"That's probably exactly why they chose to stop here," Jim surmises. 

Spock nods. "A solid guess."

"So what now?" Leonard asks. 

Jim shakes his head. "We call Dessel and let him deal with it. And hopefully he can find out more than we can."

* * *

_Life was good, after that. Nero and I grew closer and I became more and more sure that he was the man I would spend the rest of my life with. I was now privy to not only the family secret, but the secret that he'd kept from Adyrra for fifteen years. Tours came and went, and a few years passed. Nero made the decision to move out of the flat he shared with Ayel into my apartment, and I was thrilled. Ayel was less than._

_"You have just doubled my rent," he told me._

_I grinned cheekily at him. "You're partly responsible for getting us together. This is your bed, now lie in it."_

_He mumbled something about stealing Nero and I only laughed._

_More change was on the horizon. Nero came home from work one night, lost in thought. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest._

_"You look preoccupied," I said. He nodded, eyes distant._

_"Artierr is retiring," he said._

_I looked up at him. "So you'll be getting a new commander, then?"  
_

_"No," Nero shook his head. "I'm being promoted."_

_I smiled at him. "That's wonderful news!"_

_He was hesitant. "The last time I was in charge of something I killed three hundred people."_

_I gave him a stern look. "That wasn't your fault," I insisted. Survivor's guilt was a hell of a thing. "Clearly the Guild sees that you would be good for the part, or they wouldn't have offered you the promotion. If you don't trust yourself, trust their judgement."_

_Nero grunted in response. I pulled back, fixing him with a stare. "If you are unsure, you can deny the promotion. But I think you would regret it if you did."_

_He looked over at one of the shuttered windows. "Let's do something," he said abruptly._

_I tilted my head. "Like what?"_

_"I don't know. Something fun. But I don't want to be in this apartment tonight."_

_Mhiessan was known for its night life. There was always something going on, at all hours of the night. The city never knew sleep. I had a hunch that meant Nero wanted to get drunk, though I saw that as a very bad idea. But it was also the summer, and the night was warm. I had just the thing._

_"I'll call a flitter," I said with a smile._

_I gave the driver the location of the place I wanted to go, careful to keep Nero from hearing. If he knew what I had in mind he'd say he'd rather return to the apartment. But we were going to have fun, I was determined. Perhaps we weren't quite celebrating his promotion yet, but at least it would take his mind off of the decision._

_We arrived at the beach in no time. Immediately, Nero threw me a look._

_"This is not my idea of fun," he told me._

_I threw a look back at him. "We always do what you want. It's my turn."_

_"You chose this on purpose. You_ know _I hate the water."_

_"And you know I hate flying, and yet you flew me to Irennhe last week," I said, unperturbed. "Now live a little." I dismissed the flitter and sauntered down the beach, pulling my shirt over my head. There was no one here at this hour. It was just Nero and I. "You want to take your mind off work? Then join me."_

_Realizing I wasn't stopping, Nero sighed and followed after me. I stepped into the tepid water of Mhiessan's bay, feeling my body relax as the waves lapped at my feet. Nero stopped just shy of the water._

_"Really, Mandana, I'm not a swimmer."_

_"So I'll be here if you need help," I said, not turning around. I heard him enter the water, and expected him to come up behind me. Instead, I heard a large splash and turned around._

_"Oh no, help, I'm drowning," Nero said theatrically, having fallen down into the shallows._

_I stared back at him, one eyebrow cocked. "Really? You're doing this?"_

_"I can't hear you, I'm_ drowning, _" he continued, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. A wave splashed him in the face and he collapsed dramatically into the water._

_I huffed a laugh and looked down. "Then I guess you're going to drown, because I'm not leaving the water."_

_"This is serious," he said. "I'll start screaming if you don't come help me."_

_With an exasperated sigh I slogged through the knee-high water to stand at his side and offered him my hand. "Fine, you've ruined a perfectly good night. Come on."_

_Nero took my hand and I hauled him to his feet. We walked, hand in hand, back to the beach, where we sank into the sand._

_"Am I always going to be saving your life?" I asked._

_Nero chuckled. "It looks like it. It’s a good thing I met you."_

_"Yes," I said. “Good for you. Not so much for me.”_

_"You'd be sad if I died."_

_"It would take a load off my mind if I no longer had to worry about you," I shot back. I started to stand, but Nero tugged me back down._

_"I am in no condition to stand. I almost_ drowned _."_

_"You big baby," I chided, but relented and joined him in the sand. One thing I was always up for was stargazing. We lay on our backs, staring up at the star-studded sky. Beside me, Nero shiveredfiercely._

_"It's so cold out here, I might catch pneumonia, too," he said._

_I turned to him. "Seriously?" He only grinned back at me. With a sigh, I scooted closer and curled up tightly against his side. "Better?"_

_In response, he hooked a hand around my waist and pulled me on top of him. "Much better," he whispered in my ear._

_I smiled and rested my head on his chest. He had one arm around me, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. It was pleasant, listening to the lapping of the waves on the shoreline, feeling Nero breathe beneath me. I could have stayed that way forever, just him and I beneath the stars. It was perfect._

_Nero must have thought so too, because after a while he sighed. "Marry me," he whispered._

_My breath hitched. I'd known it was coming, eventually. It was no surprise to hear it. But it still filled me with a joy I couldn't fathom to hear those words. I stretched forward to plant a kiss on his neck._

_"Maybe," I purred in his ear._

_He laughed. "You better give me a better answer than that."_

_I propped myself up on his chest. "Are you going to take the job?"_

_He frowned. "_ That's _your deciding factor?"_

_My mouth twitched upwards into a smile. "You've got to provide for your future family somehow."_

_He lay his head back down in the sand and took a deep breath. "Alright, yes, I'll do it for you."_

_"Good."_

_"Don't you have something to say to me?"_

_"Do I?" I said evasively. He eyed me._

_"Mandana."_

_I laughed and nuzzled him. "Okay, then," I said. "Yes."_


	12. At The Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm over three quarters of the way to 100 views. I never expected this to get more than a couple. Thank you all for reading. <3

Over the course of her stay on board the _Enterprise_ , Mandana's sessions with Leonard had become her lifeline. Especially now that she'd passed all her tests, and found she had more free time to think. Her mind is starting to act up again, and sleep is becoming more elusive. She sees Nero everywhere, in everything. Every corner she turns he is there, every time she closes her eyes she sees his face. She yearns for his embrace; it has been over a year since she's last hugged anyone who wasn't her son. Lonely and touch-starved, she finds the closest she comes to a connection with another being is her time with Leonard. 

It is becoming harder and harder to remain impartial, and for a time she considers stopping the sessions. She can recognize when she is developing feelings for someone. She is dangerously close to wanting Leonard to be something more. Maybe distance would be a _good_ thing. But then she realizes she has nothing else to fill the void and she disregards the thought. She needs to feel _something_. 

By now they've nearly run out of topics to discuss. Mandana has taken to telling stories of her childhood and her time at the Academy. Leonard listens intently, never taking his eyes off her. She tries to get him to tell her more about himself, and towards their later sessions, he finally relents. After all, their relationship has become more a friendship than a doctor-patient association. 

He is from a state on Earth called Georgia, a place where the sun is always shining and there's always an ice cold glass of sweet tea waiting for you when you get home. Mandana tilts her head. 

"Sweet tea?"

"Do they not have tea on Romulus?" Leonard asks. 

Mandana shakes her head. "We have it, but putting sweetener in it seems like it might ruin it. And drinking it _cold_?"

Leonard looks scandalized. "Sweet tea is one of life's greatest joys," he says. 

Mandana huffs. "Oh really?"

"You're going to try it and know what you're missing," Leonard informs her, and at their next session, there is a glass of something iced and amber waiting for her. Mandana takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised at the sugary taste, offset by the sharpness of the tea. The cold will take some getting used to, but she is not wholly repulsed. 

"The next thing you've got to try is a mint julep," Leonard says.   
  
"That doesn't translate," Mandana says, and he laughs. 

"It wouldn't. It's a mixed drink."

"Mixed as in alcohol?"

"You got it."

"I wish I could introduce you to what we used to drink. I think you'd enjoy kali-fal," Mandana says. 

"I'll have to take your word for it." 

The sessions grow longer, but Mandana's sleep schedule continues to deteriorate. She mentions this to Leonard, and he gives her a knowing look. 

"There's clearly still something that you haven't dealt with," he says, but he doesn't explicitly say what they are both thinking. 

_Nero_. In the over a year since she has been seeing Leonard, she hasn't mentioned him once. Mandana looks down at her hands. 

"I told you you'd never get over me," Nero says from the corner. 

They sit in silence for a few heartbeats. Leonard is looking at her expectantly, clearly hoping she'll finally broach the subject. Without warning, tears spring to Mandana's eyes. She hasn't cried in a while. She's forgotten how she _hates_ crying. 

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. She wants to speak the words, but they won't come. She can't bring herself to utter her husband's name. 

"Mandy, you can't keep burying this," Leonard says gently.

Mandana closes her eyes. "I know," she says. "I know." She takes a deep breath and steels herself. She wants to get over this. She wants to move on. She's so _tired_. 

"I miss—" the tears bubble over and she chokes back a sob. She covers her face with her hands, hating herself. _Just say it_. 

"You won't," Nero says. 

Mandana grinds her teeth through her tears. "Nero," she says at last, and the moment the name leaves her mouth she wants to grab it and stuff it back where it belongs. "And I'm sorry. I know I shouldn’t—"

"Don't apologize for this," Leonard says. "You have every right to mourn. It doesn't matter what he's done; you don't remember him that way."

No, she doesn't. In the corner, Nero vanishes. She wipes aggressively at the tears in her eyes but more replace them. They stream down her face and she can do nothing to stem the flow. 

"What about him do you miss?" Leonard presses. 

Mandana manages to laugh. "Everything. They way he'd pick me up when he returned from a tour. How he always gave me his jacket no matter how cold it was. That stupid smile of his that I loved so much. _Everything_ about him I see _everywhere_ , and I miss it. I miss him. I miss holding him and him holding me back." She shakes her head. "You didn't know him. Really know him. He wasn't what you say he was. He was kind, and loving, and funny, and the most selfless person I've ever met." She looks up, expecting to see thinly veiled disgust on Leonard's face. She sees only sympathy. Suddenly feeling abandoned, she hugs herself. Space is so cold, and so big, and she feels so small and so alone, and her chest hurts and she just wants to move on, to be done with the pain. She sniffles by herself on the chair, and all she wants is a shoulder to cry on. All she wants is to not feel so _alone_ anymore.

Across the desk, Leonard looks like he is deliberating. Then he stands abruptly. Mandana barely registers it, and suddenly there is an arm around her shoulders. It is soft, caring, and not the touch of a therapist to a patient, but of one friend to another. He is kneeling beside her chair, his arm around her. She turns into the touch, her first real physical connection since Nero left her for Vulcan, and wraps her arms around Leonard's neck. It feels good, and it's exactly what she needs. 

She clings to him, unwilling to part. This is what she has craved for so long, and she is resistant to the idea of losing it. She wants to move on and this is the first step. She knows the pain will never fully go away, but she hopes it will subside. Subside just enough for her to do this.

She turns her face to Leonard's and kisses him.

Mandana recognizes this as a mistake the moment she does it, and she pulls back at the same time that he pushes her away. He's looking at her with what can only be described as a horrified expression. She can't believe she's just done that. Sure, she was vulnerable, sure she was feeling alone, but common sense should have kicked in there _somewhere_. This is inappropriate, this crosses so many boundaries...

"Mandy..."

"I'm sorry," she stutters. "I know better than that, I just...I don't know. I don't know why I did that. I'm _so sorry_."

"It's partly my fault," Leonard says. "I shouldn't have hugged you."

"No! No," Mandana shakes her head. "I needed that. I'm the one that ruined it. We're just friends, I know that." She hastily stands. "I should get going." 

Leonard stands as well, and he looks like he's about to stop her, but Mandana can already feel the heat in her face and she just wants to get out. She brushes past him into the sick bay proper and collects her son from Nurse Chapel. The other woman gives her an odd look, but doesn't ask her anything. Mandana hurries back to her room, head down, hating herself even more.

* * *

The next few days are awkward to say the least. Mandana shows up for her shift in sick bay the following morning, and spends most of the time avoiding Leonard. When necessity demands they share a room, she looks deliberately anywhere but at him, and thank the Elements professionalism demands they not discuss their private lives in hearing distance of the patients. Their shifts end at the same time, and Mandana makes herself scarce afterwards. And so it continues, for three days. On the fourth she realizes she can't just stay in her room forever and takes Oren to join Uhura for a game of 3D chess in the rec room. What are the odds Leonard will find her there, anyway? He has his own life, his own duties.

Uhura notices her behavior change instantly. "What's up with you?" she asks.

Mandana puts a hand to her forehead. "I messed up is what's up."

"Oh really?" Uhura makes the first move, moving her knight up to the next level. 

Mandana gives her friend a rundown of what happened four days ago, leaving out the details of just what left her in tears. To her chagrin, Uhura looks almost amused. "It's not funny," Mandana says, shifting a pawn out onto the playing field.

"No, of course not. Not now it's not, at least."

"I mean, who kisses their commanding officer?" Mandana asks, then realizes who she's talking to. "Sorry. I mean, like--"

"I know what you meant," Uhura says lightly. "It's a starship. People get close. Things happen. You're hardly the first person to misread a situation." And misread the situation Mandana had. The thing is, as much as she regrets the kiss, part of her is glad she'd done it. She'd known she had feelings for Leonard long ago, but she'd always purposefully excused them as "friendship." As it turns out, friendship for her clearly always leads somewhere else. And she wants to move on from Nero. That was the whole point of those therapy sessions. By making a move, at least she now knows she is on her way to getting over her late husband.

"The thing is, I knew better," Mandana moans. "And I did it anyway."

"It'll blow over. In a month you won't even remember this happened," Uhura assures her as she moves her other knight.

"Elements I hope not," Mandana says. 

Uhura's eyes suddenly flick up and her expression changes. Mandana glances over her shoulder and sees Leonard standing in the doorway. 

"Shit," Mandana curses in Standard and tries to hide her face, a stupid gesture considering she has an infant on her lap and there are just _so_ many of those on the _Enterprise._

Leonard spies her easily and Uhura looks pointedly away as he crosses the room to their table. 

"You can't avoid me forever," he says.

"Clearly," Mandana answers. She feels ill. 

"Can we talk?"

"What's there to talk about?"

Leonard looks down his nose at her. "Mandy."

Mandana sighs. She's an adult. She can handle this in a calm, collected manner, as adults do. 

"Want me to take Oren?" Uhura offers. Mandana nods and hands the child over to her.   


"Hopefully I'll only be a minute," she says, knowing as she says it that it's a pipe dream. She follows Leonard out into the hall, much less crowded than the rec room. She nervously wrings her hands, dreading the upcoming conversation. 

"About a few days ago..." Leonard begins. 

Mandana avoids his eyes. "It was unbelievably inappropriate and I apologize," she interrupts. 

"Would you let me talk?"

She bites her tongue. "Right. Sorry."

"Over the last year, you've told me things you haven't told anyone else. And, I know, I've shared things with you. I consider you more than a coworker. But sharing such intimate details can lead to false feelings," Leonard says.

"They aren't false," Mandana says, and winces involuntarily. She probably shouldn't have said that, but it's true. She cares about Leonard, cares _deeply_ , and she may as well dig her hole deeper by telling the whole truth. He is part of the reason she wants to move on from Nero, she knows. She wants to be free again, to get on with her life. Fall in love again. 

Leonard shakes his head. "I know you think they are--"

"I don't just think. I've been in love before. I know what it feels like." Oof. _Shut up, Mandana_ , the voice says.

Leonard blanches, clearly not expecting such an answer. "Mandy, just four days ago you were grieving over your husband."

"But I'm ready to move on. I'm so tired of feeling alone, of mourning what I'll never get back. I'll always miss him, sure, but I have a life to live. But you clearly don't feel the same way, and that happens. What I did was wrong and I'm sorry I abused our relationship," she apologizes for what feels like the thousandth time.

"I never said I don't feel the same way," Leonard says, and it's Mandana's turn to be struck speechless. "But," he continues before she has a chance to say anything else, "you may hate me for saying this, but you're vulnerable. You're lonely. You've lost everything you've known and you're looking for anything to fill that hole. And a relationship now, I feel, would be unhealthy for you and wrong on my part."

"You wouldn't be taking advantage of me," Mandana says.

Leonard smiles wryly. "And see, I don't believe that."

Mandana opens her mouth to protest, but Leonard stops her. 

"If you say you're ready, Mandy, then I'll believe you. But you've got to look me in the eye and tell me you're ready," Leonard says. 

Mandana finally looks up at him, and she wants to say "I am." But she knows that is a lie. As much as she wants to move on, she isn't there. Not yet. So instead she says, "I'll let you know when I am."


	13. Rhythm Of The Night

The awkwardness fades considerably after their conversation. The tension that had existed in the sick bay vanishes to nothing, and the other doctors and nurses, though they don't know what exactly happened, are glad to have things back to normal. 

But the sessions stop. Leonard says they can continue, but Mandana knows he secretly wants them to end. And though they've been her lifeline for so long, she finds she wants them to stop, too. She is too close and she isn't ready, and distance, she thinks, is probably the best thing for them now. 

She doesn't know how to fill the void, however. She has Uhura, sure, but Uhura knows next to nothing about her. That she's from the future, that she's a doctor, that she's a mom. That is the extent of the other's knowledge of Mandana. There is nothing deep, nothing substantial there. And to top it all off, Nero is gone. She no longer sees him in her minds eye. Where once she would have done just about anything to rid herself of his phantom, now she finds she misses it. It would be better than the absolute emptiness she feels inside. It's like she is back to square one, and the past year of and a half of recovery never happened. 

The _Enterprise_ starts to feel small and claustrophobic. Mandana starts to wonder if she's going crazy, and worries that maybe she isn't cut out for this life. Maybe she should just find a Federation colony and set up shop as the local doctor. Maybe she should just stay on Earth. Maybe she should be anywhere but on a starship. 

Shore leave comes just in time, then. At first Mandana thinks they have simply docked at another starbase, until she braves a look out one of the windows and sees the sparkling blue planet out the window. 

"Earth?" she asks Uhura, to which the other laughs. 

"No, a planet called Risa," Uhura says. "I miss home, but Risa makes a much better vacation spot."

Mandana has heard tales of Risa. A pleasure planet, completely weaponless, with weather control to provide constant desirable temperatures.

"It's Federation Day, and a number of Federation starships are showing up to celebrate," Uhura continues. And, if Mandana looks, she can see a dozen starships orbiting the gorgeous cerulean dot. "The _Lexington_ , the _Excalibur_ , the _Delestrez_ , and about half a dozen more are all here for the holiday."

Mandana looks longingly down at the planet's surface. "And we get to go down for how long?"

"I think two weeks is what the captain said. Not everyone all at once, but each crew member will be able to at least spend a week there. There’s a popular resort where we will be staying.”

 _And not a moment too soon_ , Mandana thinks. She actually smiles. "Oren will finally set foot on solid ground," she says.

Uhura looks shocked. "Right, he's never done that, has he? Risa will be perfect for him. Long, sandy beaches, lots of things to look at, and they have childcare so he can meet kids his own age."

Mandana wants to beam down immediately, but she is part of the group that will beam down for the second week. She gets a week in space to prepare. Uhura and Leonard, also, are scheduled to beam down the second week. It is the longest week of Mandana's life.

Leonard takes notice of her distracted demeanor.

"There are no pleasure planets in the Star Empire," Mandana tells him when he asks.

"You're in for a treat, then," Leonard says. 

The end of the week comes in time and Mandana beams down with Oren, and immediately she is nearly overwhelmed. If the starbase was staggering, Risa is almost too much for her to handle. There are sights and sounds and smells and even _tastes_ that she's never experienced before. Oren, of course, is ecstatic. He coos at everything he sees, and now that's he's walking Mandana has to keep a firm grip on his hand to keep him from wandering off. 

The first day she spends at the beach after checking into the resort, splashing in the surf with her son. How she _missed_ the ocean. Signs all around the beach advertise the after-hours bonfire party that is hosted each night, and Mandana thinks it sounds like the most fun she'll ever have. Uhura manages to find her, somehow, in the crowds. 

"There's plenty more to see here than the beach," she says. 

Mandana can't help the smile. "There may as well be nothing but a beach. Did you know they're having a bonfire party? I haven't been to a bonfire party since..." here she trails off, but she doesn't tear up, thank the Elements. The last bonfire she'd been to was her middle sister's wedding. Uhura gives her an odd look and Mandana swallows her sadness. "Well, in a while. Are you going?"

"I might be persuaded to come, but what about Oren?"

"I figure Oren could use some time with kids his own age," Mandana reasons. 

Uhura links her arm with Mandana's. "Your first childfree night. How could I say no to that?"

Mandana drops Oren off at the center around sunset, and at first she is apprehensive. Initially she wanted him to make friends, but leaving him with strangers? She almost says no, until Oren catches sight of the dozens of children behind the partition and points towards them, indicating he wants to go. And how could Mandana deny him? She hands him over to the Risian manning the front desk. 

"I'll be back for him late," she says, and the Risian nods.

"We'll take good care of him."

With a last look at her son, already chasing a young human child around the room with a smile on his face, Mandana heads for the bonfire.

It is roaring when she arrives, even though the sun has only just sunk below the horizon. She finds Uhura easily, among a throng of other people in Starfleet uniforms standing a distance from the actual party. Many of them she doesn't recognize, even in passing. They must be from the other ships in orbit. A makeshift dance floor is outlined in the sand, around the bonfire itself, and music blares from speakers floating ten feet above the party goers' heads. Buffet tables hosting a hundred different foods from a hundred different worlds sit off to the side. It seems no expense has been spared.

"They do this every night?" Mandana has to shout to be heard over the music. 

Uhura nods. "They must." Mandana is in awe. "But we're not here to wonder about that. Come on!" Uhura grabs Mandana's hand and drags her onto the dance floor. The heat from the bonfire warms up the almost-chilly Risan night. Uhura starts to dance, and Mandana joins her, once again overcome with how it has been over two years since she has been to a party of any sort. She refuses to let old memories taint the night, though. She _will_ enjoy herself tonight. She is determined.

As the night progresses, Mandana manages to catch a glimpse of Leonard, but she chooses to keep her distance—and she's glad she does, because she also sees he is dancing with a Risian woman. _It's no matter_ , she tells herself. _You can't hold that against him. You're not ready._ But oh, she wishes she was. Uhura notices her staring, however, and, as any good friend does, distracts her. 

"Over here," the other woman says, and they move to a bar at the other side of the bonfire, out of sight of Leonard. Uhura pushes a shot of something sweet-smelling and purple into Mandana's hands. "Drink."

Mandana tilts the shot back and almost coughs as it burns her throat. But the aftertaste is delicious, and the alcohol fills her with a pleasant warmth. She would very much like to be drunk, she realizes. After all, she hasn't had a drink since she found out she was pregnant with Oren. 

"Another," she says, and Uhura laughs. They take turns taking shots until Mandana is sufficiently tipsy. "Much better."

The night wears on. Mandana grows tired, but she doesn't want to _stop_ , and the alcohol won't let her. Somehow, Uhura and Mandana get separated, but Mandana doesn't count this as a problem. They will find each other eventually.

The heat and energy of the party fades to a dim noise in the background, and Mandana continues to dance, but her eyes are drawn to the other bar at the opposite end of the beach. She squints, trying to discern why she is so interested in that side of the party. Then she sees them, two men, one thin as a beanpole, the other sporting a mess of tousled black hair. Her heart lurches in her side and she is suddenly dizzy, overwhelmed. All at once she wishes she _wasn't_ drunk. She staggers away from the dance floor, lightheaded and feeling faint. She nearly collapses on the buffet tables, shaking hands reaching for water. 

_It's not who you think it is,_ she tells herself. It does no good. She isn't crying yet, but she could easily start, and she is all at once angry at herself. Mandana is tired of the reminders of her home everywhere she goes. She just wants to get over Nero, over ch'Rihan, _move on_ with her life. She is so _tired_. 

There's a hand on her shoulder and Mandana turns to see Leonard's concerned face. How he found her, she has no idea.

"Are you okay?"

Mandana looks down at the cup of water in her hands. Her mouth thins into a line. "I'll be fine."

"Do you need a walk back to the resort?" he says, and she looks at him over the rim of her cup.

"What about the girl you were dancing with?"

"She can find another partner."

Mandana shakes her head. "No, I don't think that's necessary. I'm just...coping," she says. 

"You're doing great," he assures her. She smiles wryly at that. She doesn't feel like she's doing great. She feels like an absolute disaster. Mandana looks out over the water. The ocean laps lazily at the shoreline, unable to be heard over the noise of the party. It reminds her of Mhiessan. But it's not; this is Risa. So far from the Neutral Zone, so far from her old home. She tells herself this over and over. Mhiessan is dead. Nero is dead. There is nothing in her past for her now. 

And, she decides, she is ready to leave it all behind. It hurts her, these memories. She is a Federation citizen now. She should embrace her new culture, instead of mourning what she'll never get back. It's been over a year. She's so tired. 

"Let's not stay," she says distantly. Mandana turns back to Leonard, who studies her. "Come back to my room instead."

Leonard is shaking his head before she's finished. "That's not a good idea."

Mandana tilts her head. "And why not?"

"Because less than a month ago you were in my office, in tears over your late husband. You're still not over him."

"So this is my way of getting over him. Of healing."

Leonard tilts his head. "Is that all I am? Your rebound?"

Mandana is taken aback. "Of course not! You're the reason I want to leave all those memories behind." She rests a hand on his shoulder. "I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions. And you said you'd believe me if I said I was ready."

"You're moving too fast. I just don't want you making any decisions you'll regret later," Leonard says. 

Mandana shakes her head. "I know what I want. And I want you."

"You're drunk, Mandy," he says. Mandana looks up, takes a chance, and kisses him softly.

"I'm sobering up. If you want to say no, say no. But do it because it's not what you want, not because of what you think of me," she says. 

Leonard looks skyward. "That's not fair."

Mandana smirks. "It's so charming that you care so much. But stop worrying for one night, and come with me." She reaches for his hand and twines her fingers with his. He still looks concerned, but when Mandana tugs him along he follows.

"If I didn't feel ready I wouldn't have offered," she continues, and finally he relents. With a small smile he motions her on. 

"Lead the way."

* * *

_Our wedding was not an extravagant affair. My sisters and my brother had all thrown large bashes, inviting dignitaries and extended family. I wanted none of that. I wanted my family, and my found family. Nero was content to give me that._

_We were married at my father’s estate, and all of Nero's crew was in attendance, plus Adyrra, of course. Artierr, not yet retired, came to show support for his successor. Nero's side of the ceremonial space was otherwise sparsely attended. I caught him looking out over the chairs and knew he wished he saw his family there._

_My side, meanwhile, was overflowing. My sisters brought their families, and though my brother was on patrol, his family came, and so did my aunts and uncles and my father's aunts and uncles. I told my father not to invite anymore after he reached one hundred guests. Nyril held me at an arm's length._

_"I only accept such a foolish request because it is my youngest who requests it," he told me. I smiled._

_The day of the wedding was beautiful, just at the start of spring. The flowers were blooming and the trees were budding, and Eisn did not yet scorch the ground with the intensity summer brought. I stood at one end of the long aisle, Nero at the other, the altar between us. The traditional robes were warm, and I attributed the sweat at my brow to them. But really, I was nervous. I was already as good as married to Nero, in my eyes, but there was something about the finality of the ceremony. Rihannsu marriages could only annulled by death; it was a large, life-altering decision to choose it. Many couples never made it this far. And as sure as I was about my choice, I couldn't help but feel the definitiveness of the day._

_The priest at the altar motioned us forward and we took our steps, pausing after each one, moving closer and closer to the pedestal. My eyes locked with Nero's. I saw no one else in the space. I will never forget the expression on his face—elation, fear, but above all, love. My knees went weak beneath his stare and it was all I could do to remain standing. I wanted to run to him, throw my arms around him, pledge myself to him forever. But I kept my composure, and at last we reached the altar._

_"Join hands," the priest instructed, and we did. Nero's thumb caressed the back of my hand reassuringly. Surely he must have seen the apprehension in my gaze? The priest then produced a vessel filled with ink. Ink served an important role in Rihannsu culture. It marked our births, our marriages, and our deaths. The meaning behind the ink depended on the symbols tattooed upon the skin._

_The priest recited the ancient prayers, and dipped his fingers into the vessel. He went to Nero first, drawing curving lines down the bridge of his nose, his chin, his hands. My breath hitched when my turn came. I bowed my head and closed my eyes as the priest swiped the ink in a similar pattern on my own skin. It felt cool on my warm flesh._

_"I stand before Water and Earth and Fire and Air, and I merge these souls into one," the priest said. Applause sounded on either side of the aisle. I stood still, focusing on my breathing. I was_ married _._

_Nero smiled my favorite lopsided smile from across the altar. "This is the part where we kiss," he said, and I laughed. Without hesitation I reached across the pedestal and took his face in my hands, kissing him hard. Another cheer, mostly from the_ Narada _'s crew, rose up and Nero smiled against my lips._

_"This means you're mine forever," he said._

_"I wouldn't have it any other way," I answered._

_As it were, Nero's crew had to leave for a tour only three weeks after our wedding. But this time, instead of dreading it, I was excited. It was Nero's first as the commander. I think I was more excited, even, than him. He had gotten over his fear, I thought. But as the time neared it seemed more and more like he was still have second thoughts about the whole ordeal._

_I kissed him gently. "You’ll do fine," I said._

_"What if I don't?"_

_"You_ will. _Just try one tour, and if you still want to pass on the promotion, then you have my blessing. But you have to at least try."_

_Nero looked away. "Okay," he said. And then they left, and I had three months to myself._

_I was working a double shift the night Nero was set to return, and though I desperately wanted to go to him and hear how his command went, I had a duty to my patients. It didn't help that a massive flitter accident had taken place just that day; seven Rihannsu lay in critical condition, and two had already perished on the scene. It was reminiscent of the night I first met Nero. I didn't get off until late that night, and I was utterly drained. We'd lost three more of the Rihannsu and I could hear the wails of their family as I traveled home. I remember thinking I would hate to be in their position._

_I took the lift up to my flat, and as I was about to unlock the door it opened. I looked up, expecting to see Nero, but was shocked to find Ayel staring back at me._

_"Ayel?" I asked, confused. Ayel was always welcome in our home, of course, but it was odd that he would choose to visit so soon after a tour. And then I noticed the green tint around his eyes. He looked very much like he had the night I'd snuck Adyrra up to Nero's room._

_"You'd better come inside," he said._

_I stepped in and shut the door behind me, looking for Nero. There he was, across the room, staring out the window that opened to Mhiessan's downtown._

_"Nero? What's wrong?"_

_"There was a flitter accident," he said, voice detached. A sick feeling started to grow in the pit of my stomach._

_"I know. The victims came to my medical center. We lost five of them."_

_"Adyrra was taking a flitter to the airfields tonight," Ayel said, and the pieces fell into place._

_"She's not..."_

_Ayel nodded. I brought my hand to my mouth, heart twisting._ No. Not Adyrra _, I thought._ Please not her. _But the facts lay before me. I quickly crossed the room to Nero and pulled him into my arms. He didn't resist, burying his head in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears on my skin. My own tears were flowing as I held him. As with Ilyhe, I had no words of comfort to offer. I could only hold him and try to keep my own heart from breaking._

_"I'll leave you two," Ayel said, and I heard the door open and close as he left. Nero and I stayed where we were, locked in a mournful embrace, for much of the night._


	14. Come What May

It is nice to wake up next to someone. Nero had been Mandana's first, celebrating the successful return of his first tour with her. After that she preferred to sleep with him more often than not; there was something unwelcoming about an empty bed. It was cold, it was uninviting, and it most likely meant Nero was in deep space for the next few months. More recently it meant he was dead. The empty bed had become a nightmare. She would not be surprised if many of her sleep terrors during her first few weeks on the _Enterprise_ were, in part, due to the emptiness beside her. 

So it is pleasant to have that space filled once more. The bed is warmer, welcoming, and she finds she doesn't want to leave it. Mandana curls closer to Leonard, yawning. She hears a soft laugh. 

"Finally, you're awake. You sleep like a rock," he says.

"It's a nice change of pace from not sleeping at all," Mandana mutters sleepily. She blinks her eyes open to see him smiling down at her, and she smiles back. "Did you sleep well?"

"Of course." He leans down and kisses the top of her head. "How are you feeling?"

Ah, yes. What had led her to invite him back to her room in the first place. She sits up and stretches, taking stock. Truth be told, she doesn't expect to be entirely unaffected. And there is a little bit of guilt, the fear that maybe she _is_ moving too fast, but it is a small voice in the back of her mind. Mostly she feels content, better than she's felt in an entire year. Like there is hope for her future, instead of an uncertain blackness. Starfleet, and then what? She's had nothing to anchor her. And now she's found that anchor. 

"Good," she says, rolling out of bed. She would have been happy to stay there longer, but she has to collect Oren. He's never been away from her for so long and she imagines he is ready to be picked up. 

"Just "good"?" Leonard asks, to which Mandana laughs. 

"For Elements' sake, Leonard. I appreciate the concern." She crawls back onto the bed and kisses him. "But I promise I'm fine."

"Whatever you say, Mandy," he says, and Mandana is certain she hasn't wholly convinced him. Leonard is still waiting for the other shoe to drop, when it won't. He would have to see that eventually.

She crosses to her bag and pulls out a fresh set of clothes. "I'm going to grab Oren. You'll be here when I get back, yeah?"

"If that's what you want."

"Of course it's what I want." Mandana pulls the shirt over her head and pins her hair back. "I'm still half afraid you'll suddenly decide I'm not ready and vanish."

"Like I said, if you say you're good, then I believe you," he answers. 

"Good," Mandana says. She throws him another smile. "I'll only be a moment."

It is just a quick walk down the resort steps, across the markets, to the childcare center. The doors swish open for her and she sees it is a Tellarite manning the desk this morning. 

"Did you have a nice night?" he asks her as he goes to collect Oren. 

Mandana smiles at her son and takes him into her arms. "Yes," she says. "But you always miss your kid." She taps Oren's nose with her finger and he giggles. 

She returns to her room to find Leonard already dressed, at the kitchenette. Something smells amazing. Mandana takes a deep breath, inhaling the delicious aroma. 

"And you cook, too? How did I get so lucky?" she asks, setting Oren on the floor. 

"Leh!" he crows, and toddles over to Leonard in the kitchenette. Leonard pats the boy on his head, and Oren hugs his leg.

"I thought Romulans didn't believe in luck?" Leonard asks her, stirring something in a skillet on the stove. 

Mandana smirks. "We don't. Must be you Federation types rubbing off on me."

"Let's hope you only get the good stuff," Leonard says. She comes to stand at the kitchenette. 

"What are you cooking?"

"To be honest, I have no idea. Something local, I think," he says.

Mandana snorts a laugh. "Whatever it is, it smells amazing."

"I hope it is. Here," Leonard hands her a spoon. "Taste it."

She does. It is savory, something spicy and rich, and it melts in her mouth. She moans involuntarily; it tastes unbelievable. "For not having any idea what you're doing, this is wonderful."

Leonard grins. "I wasn't the worst cook back on Earth. Glad I've still go it, after having nothing but replicated meals for almost three years."

Mandana makes a face. Replicated food is good, but there's nothing like the real thing. "So," she changes the subject. "What are we doing today?"

"Up to you," Leonard says, going back to stirring the skillet of that delicious something. 

Mandana huffs. "I have no idea what there is to do on this planet. You'll have to be my tour guide."

"I'll leave that to Uhura. She studies cultures when she studies the language. She'll know a hell of a lot more than I do."

And she does. Uhura is like a walking encyclopedia when it comes to Risian culture. One week passes quickly. After that first night on the beach Mandana is haunted no more by her husband or his friend. She forgets the incident as the days pass, pleased that she is able to write off what once might have sent her into a spiral. She is surviving. She is healing. She is pressing on. 

Much of her time is spent with Uhura. Mandana enjoys the woman’s company, and the other seems to enjoy her's just as much. It is a far cry from the apprehension Mandana saw in her when the first met in sick bay all those months ago. They spend most of their time at the beach, basking in the sunlight they never get on their ship. Oren especially enjoys splashing in the waves—Water is very obviously his Element, like his mother. More often than not Leonard joins them. He adores the boy, and Mandana finds herself thinking, not for the first time, that he would make a wonderful dad. She wonders how much time he got to spend with Joanna before the divorce. He refuses to spend the night in her room again, much to her chagrin, but she realizes she is being selfish. He may need time to adjust as well.

Before long the last night of shore leave is upon them. As luck would have it, Leonard is called back up to the _Enterprise_ for an urgent medical situation, and Uhura decides to spend the night with Spock. Mandana understands, and though she would rather not be alone, she is sure she can find a way to spend the night.

She drops Oren off at the childcare center, and Oren squeals happily when he is released to play with the other children. Mandana smiles. As much as she has enjoyed her time on the _Enterprise_ , a starship is no place for a young boy. She finds herself anxiously awaiting the arrival of her acceptance letter into Starfleet—and it would be an acceptance letter, she’s sure. What other cadets had her experience? On Earth, even though they would be human, there would be other children about Oren’s age for him to get to know. He could make _friends_. It would be better for him there. 

With one last small wave at her son, Mandana exits the childcare center and steps into the central marketplace. What she will do with this night she doesn’t know. Perhaps a trip to the night spa. Ever since Uhura had introduced her to it, Mandana thinks there is no activity quite as relaxing. She could also return to the beach, to listen to the waves and watch the stars…

As she is pondering all the possibilities, she doesn’t see the cloaked figure sidle up behind her. She doesn’t see their hands snake out to grab her until it is too late. One clamps over her mouth, holding her silent, while the other drags her back into the shadows of a nearby alley. In the busy crowd, no one is the wiser to her disappearance. 

Mandana struggles hard against the arms holding her, trying to recall her training from the military all those years ago. She throws an elbow back into her attacker and they grunt, but their grip doesn’t waver. 

“ _Stop_ ,” her attacker hisses in a whisper, and it is a he. There is something familiar about his voice but Mandana doesn’t stop to think about _why_ it is familiar. She just wants to get _out_ , get _away_. She stomps her foot down on the man’s insole and his grip on her loosens just slightly. Mandana sees her chance and jerks her mouth free, ready to scream, when the voice stops her.

It speaks a name she hasn’t heard in over a year, a secret name. A name only one other person should know. _Her fourth name_. Mandana freezes. It is impossible. Utterly impossible. She has told no one in this timeline that name. But her attacker whispers her fourth name again, and this time tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She knows the voice. She knows the name. She knows her attacker. 

She turns then, and the hands let her, dropping away. Mandana is free to run, but she doesn’t want to. Not anymore. There, standing before her, is Nero. He is dressed in a hooded jacket that all but obscures his face. She can just make out the angular curves of his mourning tattoos down the bridge of his nose, around his eyes. Eyes she never thought she’d ever see again. Hesitantly, she reaches out one hand to touch his face. This can’t be real. This isn’t real. Her hallucinations are back, and they are more cruel than ever.

But flesh meets flesh and she realizes it _is_ real. After all, if it were a dream this is not how Mandana would remember her husband. In her mind he is always as she'd last seen him, all dark hair and lopsided smiles with a playful glint in his eyes. Not beaten and broken and bruised like he is. Nero seems to be thinking the same about her, trying to decide if she’s real or not. His brow is wrinkled and his eyes are hesitant. 

“You’re alive,” Mandana breaks the silence at last, and Nero’s lip twitches upwards in a smile. He looks like he is about to say something but Mandana doesn’t let him. She presses her lips to his, eager to feel his skin on hers again. She thinks of nothing but being close to him, being near him. Loving him. 

It is so silly, she thinks, that just one week ago she wanted to get over him. Forget him. And now he is here, in her arms, and she has never felt more complete.

Nero kisses her back but again, he is hesitant. Unsure. 

“I’m imagining you,” he whispers against her lips. “You’re not real.”

Mandana pulls away, takes his face in her hands. She tilts her head. “Is this not real enough for you?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve imagined you so many times—”

“But, I know, never like this,” Mandana says back. She glances out at the marketplace, and notices a man in a Starfleet uniform scanning the crowd. All at once Mandana is afraid. She cannot be found. _Nero_ cannot be found. She knows what would happen if he was caught. If they were caught _together._

“Come,” she says, and takes his hand. He follows her in a daze, and Mandana has the distinct feeling that he would follow her off a cliff. She leads him down the back alleys, all the way to her temporary room at the Risa resort, careful to avoid the crowds. Up the stairs they go, through the hall, Mandana’s eyes peeled for anyone who may be watching. It is silly. No one is looking for Nero. They think him dead. But paranoia gets the best of her, and still she looks. After an agonizingly long time they reach her room. Mandana waves it open and ushers Nero inside. He obeys, stepping into the room. The door slides shut behind them.

He is staring at her again, trying to decipher if she is real or just a very convincing hallucination. Mandana crosses the room to him again and throws her arms around him. He returns the hug and pulls her tighter. His head falls to her shoulder and she feels his tears soaking through her shirt. 

“How?” he says against her shoulder, voice muffled by the fabric. He seems to have finally accepted that yes, she is here. She is with him. She is okay. Mandana holds him close, afraid that if she lets go he will vanish. 

“I left ch’Rihan,” she explains. “My father got me a ticket on an evac shuttle. We watched our home die.”

Nero pulls away and searches her face. “But I was there. There were no ships that we saw. There was nothing.”

Mandana shakes her head. She is still uncertain how she came to reside in this time. The crew on the _Enterprise_ had tried to explain it to her, once, as best as they could figure. The shockwave from the supernova must have hyperaccelerated the shuttle, flinging it not just through space but through time as well. She says as much, minus the detail about what ship had helped her. A part of her knows that this is fragile, that this could break. And she’s afraid that the _Enterprise_ might be that breaking point. 

Nero’s mouth thins into a line. He looks away, face hard. “We were so close to you…”

“Hey,” Mandana cups Nero’s chin in her hand and forces his eyes back to her. “You did everything you could, I’m sure. I don’t know what happened but I know that much.”

Nero closes his eyes. “You’re wrong. I didn’t do everything.”

Mandana tilts her head. “What else could you have done?”

“I could have not trusted Spock.”

Mandana’s breath catches, and she realizes that the answer to the mystery that has plagued her for over a year stands before her. Now she can _know_ what happened. She can _understand._

“You have to tell me what happened, love,” she says. “Why didn’t you come back sooner?”

Nero pulls away from her, leaving Mandana standing alone in the midst of the room. His hands clench and unclench. “We went to Vulcan, my crew and I. Spock said that the Vulcan High Council would aid us. They had this stuff called red matter. It could swallow any star. They were going to give it to us, or so we thought. They deliberated for a week and when Spock came back to us he said there was nothing else he could do. The High Council refused to help, he said. So we rushed back, hoping to help evacuate the planet. We were just in time to watch it disintegrate at the hands of the Hobus supernova. The Federation was waiting for us. They claimed they wanted to help, but why bring warships to aid in a natural disaster? They were there for what remained of the Empire.

“I trusted Spock, _me_ , and in the end it cost millions of Rihannsu their lives. It cost the Empire… _everything_.”

And suddenly, Mandana understands. “Mnei’sahe,” she says simply, and Nero nods. It all falls into place for her. Why her husband has become what he has. Why he has done what he has done. For every Rihanha, above all else is the good of the Empire. Every move, every motivation, is towards its bettering. The ruling passion, mnei’sahe, dictates that one’s honor and duty are intrinsically tied to the Empire. And if Nero believes it was Spock who was responsible for the Empire’s destruction, mnei’sahe demands retribution. An eye for an eye. 

Mandana reaches for Nero, but he jerks away. Fresh tears are falling. “And I couldn’t save you. I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, and she is there beside him, forcing him to touch her. 

“But I’m here now. It’s alright.” But it isn’t alright, not really. The implications of this are not to be taken lightly. For Mandana, who represents the last of _her_ Empire, the _Enterprise_ had helped. They had saved her son. Mnei’sahe, for her, is to be indebted to the Federation. For Nero, mnei’sahe wants revenge. It wants to inflict upon the Federation the same pain that every surviving Rihanha feels. Mandana feels like she is standing at the lip of a canyon, and on the other side is her husband. Everything in her wants to go to him, stand beside him. But she can’t. 

Nero finally gives in to her embrace and she rubs calming circles on his back, but her blood is cold. She clenches her eyes shut. She wants to forget what he has done. Just for tonight, she wants to be overjoyed in her husband’s miraculous survival.

“How did you survive?” she asks him. “They said you were killed with the _Narada_.”

Nero’s eyes glitter and he looks at her. “The Star Empire of this time. The black hole that devoured my ship opened in Rihannsu space. I was moments away from death when a patrolling ship rescued me.”

Mandana feels a surge of gratitude towards the Empire. “Thank the Elements for that.”

Nero smiles, and this time it is genuine. “Yes, thank them. If not for that ship I never would have known you survived.”

“Not just me,” Mandana breaths, remembering Oren. Nero blinks. 

“There are more?”

“Just one,” she says coyly, and Nero’s eye widen. “Stay here. I will be right back.”

She leaves in a hurry, nearly tripping down the resort’s steps as she hastens back to the childcare facility. Through the marketplace she goes, and she skids to a stop outside the sliding doors to the center. They whisk open far too slowly. The Andorian manning the front counter looks up.

“Back so soon, Mrs. t’Karil?” 

“Yes,” Mandana says. “It’s my last night here. I should spend it with my son.”

The worker smiles and goes to collect Oren. The toddler fusses when he is taken from his friends. 

“Hush, love,” Mandana croons. “It will be alright soon.”

And back she goes to her room, much more mindful of her steps this time, but still moving with a sense of urgency. She pauses outside the door to her room and looks down at Oren, playing with the collar of her shirt. Nero had been overjoyed when she’d told him she was pregnant. All he ever wanted was to be a father. So why does she hesitate? She chews her lip. It is silly to wait, she decides. She takes a deep breath and opens the door. 

Nero is sitting on the couch, staring out the window at Risa’s ocean. His head turns when she reenters…and all at once, the years melt off of his face. The hardness leaves his eyes and he is the closest he has ever been to his old self. 

“Oh,” he breathes, and stands slowly. 

Mandana smiles and looks at Oren, who has stopped playing with her shirt and is now staring wide eyed at the tattooed man before him. 

“That’s your daddy,” Mandana says. And Oren smiles a brilliant, toothy smile.

Nero actually laughs and steps closer. His moves are uncertain, like he is unsure how to act around the child. 

“He doesn’t bite,” Mandana chides, and Nero’s cheeks flush green. He closes the space between them and holds up a hand. Oren reaches for it, grabbing his fingers and promptly stuffing them in his mouth. Nero laughs again.

“Hey there,” he says, voice awed. 

“Nero, meet Oren,” Mandana says. Nero smiles at her. 

“You kept the name.”

“Of course I did.” She looks down. “I wanted a part of you with me.”

Nero brushes a lock of her hair behind her ear. His gaze is so full of love it almost brings tears to her eyes. How she _missed_ him. 

_He killed millions_ , the voice inside her whispers. 

_It was mnei’sahe,_ Mandana tells that voice, and it helps. The loss of life is tragic. Heartbreaking, even. But justified. Mandana does not agree, but it was not her honor that had been infringed upon. She can give Nero this. She _must_ give him this, for her own sake. 

"He's beautiful," Nero sighs. "How old?"

"A year and a half." Mandana looks away. "We've been here a while." She eyes him. "How did you find us?"

"You're all over ch'Rihan's news," he says. "The first Rihannsu to become a Federation citizen. It's quite the scandal."

Mandana's face pales. It's exactly what she expected, of course. She looks away. "And what do you think?"

Nero's face closes off in an instant. "I think that you had your reasons," he says carefully. 

Mandana nods. "No one from House Verraet would recognize me. I would not be sold away from Oren," she explains. "This was the only way I could give him the life he deserved."

Nero forces a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Then I am grateful to whoever gave you this opportunity."

_No you aren't_ , Mandana thinks. She is glad she has not mentioned the _Enterprise_ , and is thankful that none of the news articles written about her mention the taboo ship. The canyon between them grows wider.

"But how did you find us on Risa?"

"They say you joined Starfleet," he says. 

Mandana shifts on her feet and looks down. "Not yet. My application is pending."

Nero's face is utterly blank. It scares Mandana, she realizes. She takes a single step backwards. Nero shakes off the look and tries to smile again. "There are almost a dozen ships in orbit around Risa right now. I figured you might be on one of them. It was just a hunch."

"You were right," Mandana says. 

Now Nero looks at her with a startling intensity in his eyes. "Which one?"

"The _Lexington_ ," Mandana lies easily. Even as overjoyed as she is to have her husband back, even as much as she wants to tell him _everything_ , she plays it safe. It's not like he would actually hurt her. Right?

Nero visibly relaxes. "Never thought I'd see the day where you willingly served on a starship," he jokes. The tension leaves Mandana's body. He may be harder, calloused, tattooed, but at heart he is still the man she married. She laughs with him. 

"Desperate times," she answers. "It's not as bad as I remember, but I'm happy to be near the ocean."

"We'll have to go tomorrow. I haven't seen the ocean in twenty-seven years."

Mandana grins. "I'm not surprised. You always hated it."

"It reminded me of you," Nero says. That's not why he never saw it, but neither of them bring up his past. Mandana doesn't want to know what he did for those twenty-seven years. Ignorance is bliss, she thinks.

In her arms, Oren yawns. His eyelids are heavy and he looks like he is barely awake. "It's someone's bedtime," she says. She looks back up at Nero. "Would you like to put him to bed?"

Nero looks hesitant. "I've never held a kid before."

Mandana can't help it. She laughs, and it's a tad hysterical. "It's not hard, I promise. Here." She hands Oren over to him. The boy, fearless as usual, snuggles deep into Nero's jacket and shuts his eyes. The look on Nero's face is one of awe.

"He's so perfect," Nero says. 

Mandana nods. "Yeah, he is." She leads him to the bedroom, where Oren's portable crib has been erected. Nero sets him gently on the mattress, looking almost sad to set the boy down. 

"You'll see him tomorrow," Mandana assures him. "He won't go anywhere."

"It's just after all these years...you seem too good to be true."

"I promise, we aren't," Mandana says, wrapping her arms around her husband. They exit the bedroom and she shuts the door behind them. Oren is a sound sleeper. He likely won't wake until morning. 

And it is just them, then, alone in the main area of the resort room. Mandana leans against Nero and they rock back and forth, dancing to music that they can't hear. She squints her eyes shut. She knows she is in trouble, but she can't bring herself to care. Not right then. 

"I love you," she says abruptly, and he holds her tighter.

"I love you, too," he answers. And she can restrain herself no longer. She reaches up, takes head in her hands, and kisses him deeply. His hands go to her hips and pull her body against his. She runs her tongue against his bottom lip and he moans, a sound she hasn't heard in far too long. She wants to hear it again. He picks her up and carries her to the couch, planting kisses on her neck. 

And that night, everything is as it should be. 


	15. Starts With Goodbye

Morning comes too soon. Sleep had not found either Nero or Mandana much at all that night. By the time the sun peaks over Risa's horizon, each had only managed an hour at best. When Mandana wakes, still exhausted, and sore, to a chime on her pad, at first she is unsure just where she is. They could easily have been back in their apartment in Mhiessan, waking up the morning after Nero's return from duty. For just a few moments, Mandana pretends like there is nothing wrong. But the pad's chirping grows more incessant. She wearily opens her eyes and reaches for the device, but is stopped by an arm tightening around her middle, pulling her closer. 

"Leave it," Nero mumbles sleepily into her hair.

Mandana is content to do just that. She snuggles closer to him, letting the pad rest. Oren is still not up yet; they have a bit more time. She turns to face him, a weary smile on her lips. 

"Sleep well?"

"Better than I have in years," Nero assures her, voice quiet. Mandana kisses him, relishing in the feeling of his body on hers.

"Wish I could say the same. I'm still exhausted."

Nero chuckles. "We have time. You can sleep longer."

Mandana is suddenly jerking upright, heart racing. No, they don't have time. The _Enterprise_ leaves Risa tonight. She scrambles for her pad, praying it isn't Leonard calling her back up for a medical emergency. She can't leave Nero so soon. 

"We don't have time. My ship is leaving tonight." She flicks on the pad, and a message sits in her inbox. She opens it and sucks in a breath. 

"What is it?"

Mandana stares at the words on the pad. Just yesterday she would have seen them as a cause for celebration. Now they fill her with dread. She looks at Nero, then back at the pad. 

"What?" he presses.

"It's..." Mandana closes her eyes. "It's my acceptance letter into Starfleet."

Nero's face is unreadable. "That's good news, isn't it?" he says carefully. 

Mandana grips the pad so tight her knuckles turn white. Then a thought occurs to her, and she relaxes. This isn't the end of the world. "It would be, if I still planned on going," she says. 

Nero squints. "You _don't_ want to join Starfleet?"

"Of course not." Mandana sets the pad down and curls back up against Nero's chest. "I'm going with you."

It is Nero's turn to sit up. He does so slowly, and she hates the look he's wearing. "That's not a good idea," he says.

Mandana is stunned. "Of course it's a good idea." She leans in close, resting one hand on his bare chest. "I just found you. I'm not losing you again."

Nero looks away. His face is brooding. "Really, Mandana, think about it. There's no where in Federation space I can go without some risk, and I would be putting you at risk as well."

"It's a risk I'm happy to take," Mandana says, miffed. 

"But I'm not willing to risk Oren," Nero answers, and Mandana closes her eyes. She knows, now, where he's coming from. 

"We'll be able to find some place. The Federation is massive. There's a colony out there where no one will question--"

"And if it were just you, I'd happily take you with me. But Oren needs at least one parent, and if you're found with me you'll be charged with treason."

Mandana's hand curls into a fist on his chest. She shakes her head. "No, no. Do you hear yourself? You haven't seen me in _twenty-seven years_ and you're willing to lose me just like that?"

Nero holds her, rocks her gently. "I'll never lose you again. I'll wait. I waited twenty-seven years, what's a few more?"

Mandana hates him. She hates the sense that he's making. She stares at Oren's bedroom door, where he sleeps peacefully. She doesn't resent her son, she could _never,_ but she thinks about how much easier life would be without him in that moment. How much less messy. 

"I saw you. Everywhere I went, I saw you. And I thought it hurt me then. But I can't imagine what it will feel like when I see you and know you're actually out there, and I can't get to you," she says. 

He hugs her tighter. "I promise I'll find you. I _promise_. In the meantime, join Starfleet. Raise our son."

"He deserves to know his daddy," Mandana says. But she knows, deep down, that Nero is right. They have to part. There are no other options. 

"We have today," Nero says after a long silence, kissing her ear. "When do you need to be back on your ship?"

"Seven tonight."

"Then we'll make the most of that time."

In the bedroom, Oren starts to cry. Mandana pulls away and goes to him, feeling heavy. Nero is behind her. They enter the room together and she picks up the young boy, holding him close. He quiets. 

"Mama," he says, and her heart breaks. 

"Can I hold him?" Nero asks. Mandana nods. She wants him to have as much time with his son as possible. She hands Oren over and the toddler looks up, confused, at the man holding him. He'd been so tired the night before he likely didn't remember ever meeting Nero. He raises a hand and touches the tattoos on Nero's cheek.

"Pretty," he says, and Mandana has to smile. 

Nero himself breaks into a brilliant grin. "That's one word for them," he responds.

"So," Mandana leans back on her heels. "What are we doing today?" Risa is a notoriously popular vacation destination. She is a little shocked Nero had braved coming here, even if it was to see her. There are few places they could go that wouldn't put them in immediate danger.

"There's a beach," Nero says, "mostly hidden. I found it early on. It's where I camped out while I looked for you. No one will look there. I doubt most people even know it exists."

"Then how did you find it?"

"Necessity," Nero answers. It is hardly satisfying, but Mandana chooses not to argue. That's not how she wants to spend the last day with her husband. 

They pack up—Mandana brought very little to Risa's surface—and sneak out the backdoor of the resort, Nero once again wearing his hooded jacket. He stands out, but no one seems to notice. It's Risa. All types are present, and all types are welcome (well, most types). They get a strange look or two, but nothing suspicious. 

Nero leads them to the beach, weaving in between vendors until they come to the stunning white cliffs that look out over the bay. He finds a path, easily missed by one not looking for it, and takes her down to a beach closed off on all sides by rock. The rocks jut out into the bay a ways, effectively hiding the beach from casual beach goers. The crystal clear waters lap at the pristine ivory sand, and Mandana has to smile. 

"What?" Nero asks, catching sight. 

"I'm on a ship. You're on a beach. We haven't really ended up where we expected, have we?"

Nero huffs a laugh. "Guess not."

Oren catches sight of the ocean. " _Ak-wrrrr-ae_ ," he says, attempting the Rihannsu word for ocean. Mandana has been attempting to teach him all week, and he is picking up on it, but _aekhwinarrae_ is still a long way off.

Nero smiles all the same. "He's trying," he says. 

Mandana nods. She doesn't tell him that he knows more Standard than he does Rihannsu. Nero sets the young boy down and he toddles towards the ocean, tripping in the sand and picking himself back up. Nero’s hand finds its way into Mandana's and they walk, hand in hand, following their son. And for just a bit, nothing is wrong. 

They take Oren into the ocean, each holding one of his hands, swinging him between them and helping him jump over the waves. He squeals with glee every time, and though Mandana is taken with the sound of her son's joy, she finds herself watching Nero's face most. He really does look by his old self, shaved head and tattoos excused. His eyes are warm, his smile is easy, and his laugh is music to her ears. She doesn't want to leave him. 

_But you have to_ , says the same stupid voice that reminds her of all things bad. And another thought comes to her mind, something she hasn't considered but she really should have. _What about Leonard?_

All of a sudden Mandana's good mood is ruined. She'd said she was ready. She'd said she was in love with him. And the strange thing is, she _was_. In love with two men at once. But Nero, Nero was her first, and he would be her last if she had any say. She would cut things off with Leonard, as gently as possible, and hopefully he would forgive her eventually. They were barely together, after all. It was just one night. _One night_. One night, and hundreds of sessions spilling their most intimate life details. She chews her lip. She is in trouble. 

Nero catches her eye and he frowns, but there is no way he can guess at what has her so down. No doubt he thinks she is just remembering they only have hours left together. And she is content to let him think that. He doesn't need to know about Leonard. 

Time speeds by and Mandana wishes it would slow down, but before long the sun is setting on the horizon. She has maybe an hour left with her husband, before she is required to be back on the _Enterprise_. Fear grips her heart. She can't do this, she can't leave him. 

They are sitting in the sand, watching Oren play in the soft sand. Her head is on Nero's shoulder, his arm around her shoulders. She turns her head into him. She refuses to cry. She has had quite enough of that over the last year and a half. 

"How much longer?" he whispers in her ear. 

"Not long enough," she murmurs. He hugs her tighter. She hopes he'll have second thoughts about taking them with him. But she knows she'd have to say no even if he offered. What's best for Oren is not what's best for her. 

"How are you going to find us?" Mandana asks. 

Nero actually laughs. "How many other Rihannsu are Federation citizens? You're not hard to locate."

That sets her mind at ease a little. Nero found her once, he would find her again. She wants to stay in the moment with him, but Mandana finds herself counting the minutes until she has to leave. It grows darker and darker and the stars come out. She lies back on the beach, looking up at them. 

"Ch'Rihan is out there somewhere," she sighs. Nero follows her gaze. "You wouldn't happen to know which one, would you?"

A smile. "No, I'm not familiar with Federation space. I don't know the stars."

Oren runs over at that moment and falls onto her, giggling. 

"Mama!" he says. Mandana wraps her arms around him. 

"Oh, my little _dhæl_." She kisses him and he squeals happily. Nero watches them both, a sad smile on his face. 

"Where's Leh, Mama?" he asks. Mandana's blood goes cold. She glances at Nero, who tilts his head. 

"Leh?"

"A friend. From the... _Lexington_ ," she says, remembering the ship she told Nero she served on. 

Nero nods, eyes distant. "I guess you're fitting in well, then."

"Hey." Mandana sits up, resting a hand on his cheek. He looks into her eyes. "I'd give it all up in an instant to be with you."

Nero leans in and kisses her. "I wish you could come with me."

"It's going to be a long few years."

"Yeah."

And her time comes to an end. At five minutes to her curfew she stands. It is the moment she's been dreading all day. "We have to go," she says, hugging Oren closer to her. 

Nero sighs. "Okay," he says, and it's the most unsure she's ever heard him. She digs her communicator from her bag and stares at it. _She doesn't want to go._

He comes over and rests a hand over it. "Call them," he says firmly. "You don't want a court martial."

Down to the wire and he's still trying to cheer her up. Mandana bites her lip and she leans into him. _Don't make her go._

The communicator chirps in her hand. Her time is up. 

"Doctor t'Karil, you're late to your post," Leonard's voice floats over the box. Cheerful. Playful. A sob threatens to force its way from her throat. 

"Two to beam up," she says, voice distant. Nero steps back, out of range of the transporter. She looks up into Nero's eyes, memorizing every detail of his face. He looks back, looking for all the world like he's holding back. The canyon between them becomes something insurmountable. She is still watching him when the transporter whisks her and Oren away.

* * *

_I said good bye to Nero so often that it lost its sting, eventually. I stopped worrying he'd injure himself—as the commander, his job was not as dangerous as it had once been. We talked every night and it stopped feeling like the end of the world when we signed off.I was so used to Nero always being there, even when he wasn't. We settled into a pattern. We got complacent._

_Six years into our marriage I was reminded how fragile everything really was. Nero left for his tour, as usual. I saw him off at the station, as usual. And then I went home and was violently sick. At first I thought nothing of it. A bad meal of_ hlai _, I thought. When I was sick the next day I assumed I'd caught a stomach bug. But on the third day, I started to suspect._

_The test came back positive and I nearly choked. I wasn't opposed to motherhood, but I had never_ thought _about it. It had never been on my radar. I had no strong opinions on it because I had never considered it. Sure, my brother and my sisters had children, and I enjoyed them well enough, but there was something almost frightening about the prospect of being a mother myself. That, and I knew just what pregnancy did to your body. I felt ill, again, and barely made it to the fresher before my last meal made a reappearance._

_Nero. I had to call Nero. Telling him over subspace message wasn't ideal, but it would be better than him coming home to find me visibly pregnant._ Surprise, you're going to be a dad _. That seemed wrong. I sat at my desk and typed in his frequency. And I got nothing._

_I frowned at the computer and retried. Nothing. The signal pinged off of nothing. Either Nero wasn't answering, which he would never do, or something was wrong. Immediately my mind jumped to the worst case scenario. Havrannsu were known to sometimes commandeer stray ships. Nero's vessel was unarmed; they would be a prime target. What if they'd been captured? What if he was_ dead _?_

Calm down, Mandana. It's just your hormones. _I told myself this. The rational part of my brain tried to speak over the irrational, emotional part. It didn't work. Not for the first time, I wished Adyrra were still alive. I needed someone to talk to. I needed someone who understood what I was going through._

_One month passed, and each night I called the_ Narada _, praying to the Elements that Nero would pick up. He never did. By now I was sure he was dead. He would never_ not _respond. This realization knocked me off my feet. I sat heavily on my couch, one hand over my mouth, silencing the sobs before I could ever make a noise. In desperation, I called the Mining Guild and asked if they'd heard anything about Nero's ship and crew. They hadn't. But, they said, that wasn't cause for concern. Ships sometimes lost communication. Wait until they are supposed to return, they said. Then worry._

_And so I did my damndest to do just that. I went to work, I came home, I went to the markets, all the while telling myself that Nero might still be alive. Then the day of his scheduled arrival came. And he was late._

_By now I was showing, and many at the medical center knew that my husband was late. For the first time, I did not feel the work environment was hostile. It felt...sympathetic. I was a widow, and I was pregnant to boot. The situation was tragic enough that even those who despised me stifled their hatred for a time._

_Four days after Nero's scheduled arrival, I got word that the_ Narada _had docked. I nearly collapsed from relief and took the next shuttle up to the station. And there were my friends disembarking, and last to leave was Nero. He looked so apologetic when he left the ship. I ran to him and threw my arms him, and he hugged me back._

_"I'm so sorry—" he began, and I pulled back to hit him on the shoulder._

_"What the_ hell _? Do you have any idea what I've been going through?" I said angrily. He leaned in to kiss me and I dodged it. "Did you think I would let you off so easily?"_

_He shook his head. "Mandana, it's not my fault. There were large amounts of ionizing radiation that blocked all our messages. We couldn't send or receive anything."_

_"Then why are you late?"_

_"The radiation was having a negative effect on our warp drive. We had to impulse away from it all before we could go to warp."_

_I huffed. All this time spent worrying and it was just a little bit of radiation. I sighed and leaned into him. "Well, you're back now. But so help me you better be here for a while."_

_"Four whole months," he said, and kissed my head._

_"Good. Then I won't have to do this alone."_

_He held me at an arm's length. "Do what alone—" and it was then he caught sight of my belly, not heavily pregnant but still undeniably noticeable. His face changed. "Ah."_

_"I tried to call you when I first found out," I told him._

_He shook his head in awe. "I'm sorry I couldn't answer." He scooped me up and spun me around, as gently as he could manage. "This is the best news."_

_I laughed and buried my face in his neck. "You'd better not be late getting back next time," I murmured._

_He chuckled. "I promise I won't be."_


	16. Drowning Lessons

Leonard is waiting for her in the transporter room.

"You were cutting it close," he says, eyeing her as she steps off the pad. 

"Leh!" Oren tugs out of Mandana's hand and races to him. Leonard picks him up.

"I just didn't want to leave, I guess," she says, swallowing her sadness. She forces an amused smile and Leonard returns it, not realizing how fake it is.

"Risa has that effect on people."

"No pretty," Oren says, tapping Leonard's face. The doctor looks at the boy, tilting his head. 

"What does that mean?"

Mandana suddenly can't breathe. What if introducing Oren to Nero was a mistake? What if he lets slip something incriminating? What if he exposes Nero, and by extension, her?

"I have no idea," Mandana says lightly. "Who knows what goes on in a child's mind?"

Leonard accepts this answer. She picks up her bag and together they leave the transporter room. They must go up a few decks to reach her quarters, and the lift ride is awkward. Well, for Mandana, at least. Leonard doesn't seem to have any idea that anything at all is different.

"I got my acceptance letter to Starfleet," Mandana says by way of conversation. The silence is wearing hard on her. 

Leonard smiles. "I knew you would. They'd be foolish not to take you. Classes start soon, right?"

Mandana clears her throat. "Three months is what the letter says. I'll have to leave the _Enterprise_ soon."

"We'll work something out," he says, and at first Mandana doesn't know what he means. What is there to figure out? They will drop her at a starbase and another starship will take her back to Earth. They had this figured out when she decided she would apply to Starfleet in the first place. It takes her a moment to realize he means work something out between _them_. 

She looks down at the floor. There can be nothing between them, not anymore. Not when she knows Nero is still out there. She has to say something, nip this relationship in the bud before Leonard can get any more invested in it. Mandana feels so guilty for initiating anything in the first place. It's her fault she is in this position. But how was she to know what would happen on Risa? How could she have anticipated Nero coming back from the dead? 

She looks straight ahead when she answers. "Yeah," she says, and Leonard gives her a funny look. Perhaps he expected an explanation, one that Mandana can't give. 

They arrive at her room and Mandana stops at the door. Leonard sets Oren down, and the toddler clings to her leg. She takes a deep breath. 

"Look, Leonard..." This isn't going to be easy. She watches his eyes close off the moment he hears her voice. Her heart feels heavy. _He doesn't deserve this_. "Risa was wonderful."

"But?" he asks, and Mandana physically flinches at his tone. It's not angry. It's not accusatory. It's resigned. An I-should-have-known-better voice. 

"But I had time to think, and when you left I realized...I guess I'm not as ready as I thought. I wish I was, I really do—" _I wish things were different. I wish I'd known more, sooner. I wish I didn't have to put you through this._ “—but I don't think I am."

"Yeah," he says, and looks away. 

"I am so, so sorry. I should have listened to you." 

The smile he forces only makes Mandana feel worse. "It's not entirely your fault. I should have known better."

_Ouch_. "You only have to put up with me for a few more weeks. I know you must hate me."

"Mandana, I don't hate you." It is hearing her real name that really drives the knife deeper. She is no longer "Mandy." It is cool professionalism now. "And we'll miss you in the sick bay. It's been nice not being so short staffed."

Mandana smiles, but it's barely there. She knows he'll be glad not to have to see her again. Were she in his position, she'd be grateful that she was leaving. "Then I'll see you on shift tomorrow," she says. 

"Yeah," Leonard says again. And he leaves, just like that. Mandana feels ill. She wishes beyond everything that that didn't hurt as bad as it had. But she'd had little other choice. It wouldn't be fair to him to continue anything when her heart truly belongs to someone else. Someone blessedly alive. Someone who will be coming for her, eventually. 

She waves open her door and hauls her bag inside, Oren following on her heels. She picks her son up and sets him on the bed, then falls down beside him. He reaches immediately for her hair. 

"Mama," he says, and she smiles. It kills her that all these moments Nero will miss. All he'd ever wanted was to be a father and the Elements denied him even that. _Maybe Oren will choose to come along_ , she thinks. But no, not the way the Federation painted Nero. If Oren had any sense he would not just reject the idea, but report Nero's survival. _Unless_....

Unless Mandana told him who his father was. _Really_ was. None of that murdering for the sake of murder that the Federation claimed Nero did. There had been rhyme, there had been _reason_. She sits up and sets Oren on the floor, then moves to her computer. She will tell Oren, then, about the man his father used to be. Perhaps still was, deep down. And maybe, when the time came, he'd choose his family over the only life he'd ever known. 

* * *

A month passes. Her shifts in sick bay are not as horrible as she imagined; no one calls her a terrorist anymore, but she also sees no more of Leonard. He must have changed their schedules to no longer coincide. It hurts, but she understands. Again, she puts herself in his position. She would do the same thing.

Uhura, who, to Mandana's knowledge, is the only one to know that she and Leonard had actually spent the night together, doesn't mention it. Perhaps she senses something happened between the two. Mandana is thankful that she doesn't ask after it. She'd rather forget the whole ordeal. 

In two months' time, Captain Kirk alerts her, they will be making a stop at Starbase Twenty-four, where Mandana will board the _Excalibur_ and it will take her back to Earth. Two months is all Mandana has to wait out. She finds she is beyond nervous at the prospect of leaving, however; yes, it means she will leave Leonard behind, but she will also lose the only real friend she has in Federation space. She and Uhura have grown close. Not as close as Mandana and Adyrra once were, but close enough that losing her will sting. Making friends has not been easy. Mandana wonders how she will fare when she arrives on Earth. 

Around the fifth week after they leave Risa, Mandana takes a sick day. She can barely leave her fresher to take care of Oren, let alone see patients. She wonders if perhaps she ate something, but realizes she's craved nothing but bland food for three days. And then a thought occurs to her, a thought that chills her to the bone. 

It's impossible. She's only felt sick for one day. That is hardly indicative of a larger problem. But the timing is right, and the cravings are odd, and smells that never would have bothered her are now overwhelming, and she _has_ been feeling a bit tired lately...

_Stop it_ , she says. _You're fine_. But the terrible horrible thought will not let her be, so on her shift the next day she quietly sneaks a small, white stick from the ship's small pharmacy back to her room. She takes the test, telling herself all the while that it's just paranoia. But then it comes back positive.

_Fvadt_. Mandana stares at the test for a long time, thinking there couldn't possibly be worse timing in the whole universe. She isn't ready for another child. She has no one to help her raise it. And then another thought strikes her: she doesn't know whose baby it _is._

A slightly hysterical laugh escapes her mouth. The situation is almost comical. _Of course_ she'd get pregnant after sleeping with not one, but _two_ men. _Of course_ there would be no way to know who the baby belonged to. Unless, perhaps, there was?

Were humans and Rihannsu even compatible in terms of their biology? Humans and Vulcans clearly were, but Rihannsu had diverged from their Vulcan cousins long ago. Maybe there's only one person who could have fathered the baby.

_You know how wishful that is_ , the voice says. And Mandana does. She lets her head drop into her hands. What if it _is_ Leonard's? He has a right to know. She can't just leave the _Enterprise_ without telling him that she might be carrying his child. 

But what if it isn't his. The thoughts run circles in her mind. There is a way to know, to find out definitively if who the baby belongs to, but that also requires talking to Leonard. Any way she went, she'd have to tell him. 

" _Imirrhlhhse!_ " she curses, and angrily throws the test on the floor. Oren looks up, startled by her outburst, but he doesn't cry. She presses the palms of her hands against her eyes. What a fucking beautiful situation. 

There is only one option for her. She has to tell Leonard. Nothing else would be fair to him. So the next day, Mandana seeks Uhura out in the rec room. She is sitting with Spock, laughing over something while he sits looking entirely unimpressed. 

"Hey," Mandana says. Uhura looks up and tosses her ponytail over her shoulder. 

"Mandana! What's up?"

"Would you be able to watch Oren for a few minutes? I have an....errand."

Uhura eyes her, but holds out her hands. Mandana gives her son over to her. "What kind of errand?"

Mandana looks away. "Not a fun one."

This earns her a sympathetic look from her friend. "Good luck," she says. 

Mandana smiles halfheartedly. "Thanks. I need it."

She then heads to sick bay, dragging her feet. Part of her hopes Leonard isn't on shift, but she knows he is. As CMO, his only options are alpha and beta shift, and she is alone on alpha shift. When she arrives she gets a surprised look from the intake nurse. 

"Doctor t'Karil, your shift ended an hour ago."

"I have unfinished business," is all she says, and she stops outside Leonard's office. She taps on the door, hears him say "come," and waves the door open. He looks stunned to see her. 

"Mandana?" 

"Hey." She is unsure what else to say, so they stare at each other for a good few seconds in horribly awkward silence.

"Is there something you needed?" Leonard presses, and she looks skyward. 

"Can I sit down?"

Now he looks concerned. "Yes. Are you okay?"

_No_. She takes her seat and smooths her pants. She's putting off saying it. _Just get on with it, you coward_ , the voice says. Mandana takes a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you. About Risa."

He looks immediately cautious. "Okay..."

"The real reason I ended things. Well, I ended things because I wasn't ready. But it's how I knew I wasn't ready." She's rambling off lies, one after another. She wishes she could tell him the whole truth without putting her life, and Nero's life, at stake. He has a pained look on his face, like he doesn't want to hear what she has to say. _Tough_. "The night you went back to the _Enterprise_ , I met someone. Someone else."

"Mandana..."

"Let me finish. Please," she pleads, and he snaps his mouth shut. "It wasn't anything serious. It was never going to go anywhere." Lie after lie after lie. "It was just a one time thing. But it made me realize that I was just looking for anything to fill the void."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because something happened."

"...What?"

She closes her eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Shocked silence. "Are you sure?" Leonard asks at last. 

Mandana laughs bitterly. "All too certain."

He puts the pieces together. "And you don't know who the father is."

She shakes her head. "I'm so sorry. I was so stupid."

He doesn't deny this, and that's how Mandana knows he is angry. He doesn't show it. He is the picture of calm, outwardly, but she can only imagine what is running through his head. When he doesn't speak any further, she continues. 

"I was hoping to at least take an in utero paternity test, so we can rule out if it's yours. As soon as possible."

"Yes," he says, and his voice is cold. "Are you sure keeping the baby is the right decision, though?"

Mandana blinks, astonished he would even bring that possibility up. If it's Leonard's, she can't imagine him wanting to abort his own child. And if it's Nero's...Elements, she could never do that. "It might be difficult, juggling two kids and my education, but I am sure of my decision. I'm keeping it."

Leonard nods. She hopes, at least, he thinks better of her for that. "I'll have Doctor Shon administer the test."

She nods and stands. "Thank you," she says, though she knows he doesn't want to hear it. He waves her out and she feels hollow. The clean break she wanted from him has turned messier and messier. And now it might not even be a break at all. 

Mandana sits through the test. Doctor Shon, a Deltan female, doesn't ask her any probing questions and for this Mandana is grateful. Shon must have put together who at least one of the possible fathers is. _Thank the Elements that she can't say anything_ , Mandana thinks.

"We'll have the results in three days," Shon says as Mandana stands. She doesn't question after the long wait for a test that, in her time, would take maybe a day at most. As she leaves the sick bay, she is suddenly cold. She rubs her upper arms and hangs her head. It feels suddenly unwelcoming, like it had when she first arrived. All the progress she's made in the year and a half she's been on the _Enterprise_ is gone, just like that. With one stupid mistake.The sooner she gets off this ship, the better.


	17. The Ghost Of You

**** Leonard is on call the next day. Unfortunately, their shifts collide. Mandana tries hard not to think about what he must be thinking about her. She has a job to do, and she doesn't want anything to distract her from that job. 

The _Enterprise_ is en route to Natala, the last Mandana heard. Another distress call. Mandana wonders if it is the  _ssidhwavr_ again; didn't the Vulcans know how to deal with the bugs by now? She doesn't question it. If a medical team is needed, she will likely be on it. In the mean time she has patients to tend to.

Her first patient of the day is an engineer, a name she's heard simply in passing. She doesn't know Lieutenant Commander Scott personally, but she knows _of_ him. He is in after a long fall from one of the catwalks in the engineering section. He is not apparently injured, but protocol dictates all personnel receive a check up after such a fall. Just to make certain there is nothing wrong. 

She flashes a light in his eyes, watching the pupils contract. So far, he seems to be in excellent condition. Mandana pockets the flashlight. 

"Can you tell me what the current stardate is?"

"2260.201," Scott says. Mandana nods. 

"I don't think you've sustained any serious injuries. You might be sore, but you're almost good to go."

"Almost?" he asks. 

"I just want to test your reflexes. You—" The ship suddenly lurches sideways, and nearly knocks Mandana off her feet. She is caught by her patient. 

"You alright there, lass?"

Mandana nods. “What—"

Another lurch. This time, a wailing siren sounds throughout the sick bay. Brilliant red lights flash angrily on the walls. _Red alert_. Scott moves to get up off the bio bed, but Mandana grabs his arm.

"You're not cleared for duty," she says. 

Scott grunts. "Are my reflexes not as they should be? I'm needed in engineering."

"Get back on the bio bed, Mr. Scott," Mandana says. The lights flicker, and the ship pitches again. 

"All hands to battle stations," Kirk's voice comes over the ship's comm. Mandana might have imagined it, but she thinks hears a frantic note in her captain's voice. 

She herself is not totally afraid. The _Enterprise_ has had her fair share of scuffles in the past year and a half. None of them have been serious. Why should this one be any different? 

Scott grudgingly gets back on the bed. The ship continues to roll, and then, as suddenly as it started, it stops. 

_Nothing to worry about_ , Mandana thinks. The _Enterprise_ is too well equipped, too armored. It is the pride of the Federation fleet. There are very few ships in existence that pose a threat to it. Everything is alright. Until, suddenly, it isn't. 

There are four bodies abruptly pushing their way through the sick bay doors, and they come bearing weapons. Enemy fire lights up the sick bay, burying itself in the walls and ceiling. Everyone who is able to hits the deck. Mandana catches sight of Leonard pulling his patient off the bio bed, out of harm's way. Scott is beside her, pushing her behind him. The weapons' fire ceases. 

" _Genmibh_ ," one of the attackers says, and Mandana's breath catches. _Rihannsu_. The UT is slow to catch on. When no one stands as ordered, they become irate. "I said, _stand up!_ " They shout, and when the UT renders the words the entire sick bay stands as directed. But they don't stand fast enough, apparently, because the four Rihannsu spread out and start yanking _Enterprise_ crew members to their feet. Scott stands, and Mandana tries to get her feet under her. She, too, is too slow, and on the of the attackers grips her bicep and hauls her upwards. Their hands are rough and the strain on her shoulder is painful.

" _Fvadt_ ," Mandana curses, the word entirely involuntary. The moment it leaves her mouth she sucks in a breath. The Rihanha holding her, a woman with her dark hair braided down her back, notices. She squints at Mandana, taking her in. 

"You're the traitor," the Rihanha says, and Mandana's blood chills. The Rihanha’s face changes to one of disgust. She kicks the back of Mandana's knee and Mandana goes down heavily, grunting when she hits the deck. There is a disruptor at her temple, and her heart is beating fast. So this is how she dies. She is afraid, but she doesn't show it. She will die with dignity. Mandana lifts her chin and glares up at the Rihanha. 

"And I would do it again," Mandana spits. The Rihanha's face twists and her finger tightens on the trigger, but she looks away when she hears the sounds of a scuffle. Mandana turns her head in time to see Scott launching himself at the Rihanha. At the same time, the rest of the sick bay personnel revolt, taking advantage of the distraction. The remaining three Rihannsu find themselves besieged by angry doctors and nurses. Mandana sees Leonard among them. 

Her own captor shifts her disruptor to aim at Scott, and Mandana knows she will fire before Scott ever reaches her. Her training returns to her, in one moment of clarity, and she jumps to her feet, reaching for the disruptor. She wrenches it from the Rihanha's grip at the same time that the engineer plows into her. But the Rihanha is too strong and slams him to the deck. Mandana grits her teeth, aims the disruptor, and fires. The blast strikes the Rihanha in the head and she stills. Mandana sets the disruptor down and reaches out a hand to help Scott to his feet. 

"It's a good thing I didn't send you back to engineering," she says. 

Scott nods. "It would appear so."

The rest of the sick bay has fared just as well. There were too many doctors, too many nurses, too many techs, and the four Rihannsu had been no match even with their disruptors. All four of them lie dead on the deck. A few of the medical personnel are injured, but the damage is minor. Mandana leaves Scott and goes to help the wounded. She helps a tech to her feet and catches Leonard's eye as she does so. His face is an open book, and she sees relief there. Relief that she is safe? Or relief to have the sick bay back? 

Scott leaves the bio bed and collects the remaining disruptors from the fallen Rihannsu. None of them know what exactly is going on, but it is better to face the threat armed. No one else, however, is in a position to take a weapon. The medical team has next to no experience with disruptors, and the other patients are far too injured to be much help. Scott, who Mandana is now sure is fine, sets two of the disruptors on a bio bed and keeps one for himself. He goes to stand by the door, standing guard lest any other Rihannsu barge in unannounced.

The crackling of the _Enterprise_ 's comm startles them all. Mandana sets the tech she is assisting on a bio bed and pauses, hoping to hear Captain Kirk give the all clear. But, while the voice that floats over the speakers is familiar, it is not her captain's. 

_"Attention, Enterprise. We have taken the bridge. You are now all prisoners of the Rihannsu Star Empire. Surrender or die, your choice."_

Her heart constricts in her side. _Nero_. No. No no no no no. Before she can even process what she is doing, she leaves the injured tech on the bio bed and races for the sick bay doors. She has to get to him. She has to get him to _stop_. 

"Mandy!" Leonard rushes from the side of the bio bed he stands by and takes her arm, face frantic. "Nero isn't who you remember, Mandy. He's not the man you married."

A lump forms in her throat. _Mandy._ He hasn't called her that since after Risa. He's scared, and not just for the ship. For her. Even after she'd hurt him. 

"He won't hurt me," Mandana insists. "He may have changed, but he won't hurt me. He could never do that."

"You weren't here. You don't know what he's turned into."

_I do._ But Mandana can't say that. She is painfully aware that the entire sick bay is a captive audience to their conversation, to the revelation that she is Nero's wife. But she can't worry about that now. 

"Are you ordering me to stay?" she asks. 

Leonard looks helpless. "Oren needs his mother," he tries. She looks down. 

"And he won't have her if we make it back to the Star Empire. I'm the only hope this ship has, Leonard."

He knows this. She sees it in his eyes. His hand drops from her arm and he steps back. 

Mandana wastes no time. She turns to Lieutenant Commander Scott. "I need to make it to the bridge. Can you take me?"

He looks from Leonard to Mandana. "Aye," he says. "If you say you can stop him, then I'm with you." He cocks the disruptor in her hands. 

Mandana reaches behind her and grabs the disruptor she set down only moments before. "I'll be back," she tells Leonard. He still looks stricken.

"I hope so," is all he says. 

Mandana walks up behind Scott and he waves the door open. He looks out into the hall, searching for enemy combatants. The coast is clear. 

"Come on," he says. Mandana casts one last look Leonard's way before darting after the lieutenant commander. 

The halls are eerily silent. The red alert flashes but the sirens have long since gone quiet. It is just the ominous blinking of the lights that carries them through the halls. They move quickly, weapons up, eyes peeled for any signs of life. The Rihannsu, whoever they are, must have moved on to the lower decks. They make it to the lift in no time. 

Mandana steps inside, heart pounding in her side. Scott follows her and selects the bridge. The lift whisks them upwards.

"So he's your husband then," Scott asks, breaking the silence.

Mandana looks straight ahead. "I believe the captain thought it best to keep this information from the crew."

Scott nods. "I think that was wise."

They reach the bridge in no time. Mandana grips her disruptor tighter, body tense. Who knows what she will find on the other side of the lift doors? Her mind has leapt to the worst case scenario. She hopes they aren't too late. The lift doors swing open and Mandana rushes out, weapon up. 

The scene on the bridge is not as gruesome as she anticipated. There are five Rihannsu holding the majority of the bridge crew at gunpoint. Captain Kirk is slumped on the ground before the chair, blood forming a halo around his head. And Spock...

Spock is in the hands of Nero, struggling against the hold her husband has on his neck. Nero's face is twisted like she's never seen it before, and for one split second she wonders if perhaps Leonard was right. She had kept the truth of the ship she served on to herself for a reason. What if Nero, also, brands her a traitor? What if he puts this old Empire before her? There is no time to turn back. 

"Nero!" she shouts, and all heads turn. The armed Rihannsu swing their weapons around to her, and Nero looks to her. The color drains from his face. He drops Spock instantly, and glances to his right. Mandana follows his gaze and sees the Rihanha closest to her tighten his finger on the trigger of his disruptor.

"No!" Nero shouts, and in a second he is vaulting over the captain's chair, lunging for the Rihanha who had prepared to fire on her. He reaches him just in time, knocking the disruptor away as it discharges. Mandana hits the ground and the blast buries itself into the bridge's ceiling. At the same time, the bridge crew takes advantage of the distraction in the same way that the medical team did. They all turn on their captors, fighting tooth and nail to regain control of the bridge. The two men at the helm go after the two at the front of the bridge, the Andorian at weaponry takes another. Uhura is wrestling over the disruptor of her own Rihanha, and Spock has recovered somewhat from Nero's vice grip and is managing to hold his own against the fifth, despite the fact that his right arm is hanging uselessly at his side. Scott is behind Mandana, and he fires three shots in quick succession, taking out two of the five Rihannsu. Uhura has wrenched the disruptor from the hands of the Rihanha covering her and shoots her in the stomach. The last two realize they are outnumbered and turn their weapons on themselves. In moments it is over. 

Mandana tries to pick herself up off the ground, and notices a hand outstretched to help her. She looks up into Nero's face, a mask of nothing but grief. She glares at him and knocks his hand out of the way. 

"Mandana..."

"Don't speak," she snarls, and strides over to where Kirk is lying in a puddle of his own blood. No doubt her husband's handiwork. She presses two fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse. It is there, strong and steady beneath her hand. She exhales. He is not on death's door, at least, but there is no telling the extent of the damage caused by his head wound. 

Nero attempts to take a step towards her but is stopped when Scott lifts his disruptor. 

"Don't move, don't talk," he orders. Nero scowls but stays put. 

Spock is suddenly beside Mandana. 

"Is he alright?" he asks her. 

Mandana shakes her head. "There's no way to tell unless we get him to sick bay, and fast."

Her mind is racing. She hates to move a person with a possible neck injury, but there is no feasible way to get a stretcher up to the bridge and back to sick bay during this attack. Who knows if more Rihannsu have filled the halls they just ran through? Someone will have to carry Kirk. Mandana turns back to her husband, watching her with an unreadable expression. 

"We've got to carry him out of here," Mandana says. 

Spock nods. "I will--"

"No, you won't. I'm not sure of the extent of _your_ injuries," Mandana says, eyeing the ring of green around his neck and noting his dislocated arm.

"There is no one else on this bridge strong enough—"

"Yes, there is." Mandana looks at Nero. "Come here."

Spock balks. "He is responsible for injuring the captain."

"And he won't do anything else to hurt him. Will you?"

Nero, remembering her orders to shut up, simply shakes his head.

"Doctor t'Karil, he can't be trusted."

"Yes, he can. He won't cause any more trouble."

"How can you be sure?"

Mandana takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "Because I'm his wife, and he will do as I say."

Spock is struck speechless. He looks from Kirk on the ground back up to the hulking Rihanha by Commander Scott. "That's still not enough to guarantee he won't further injure the captain," Spock finally says. 

"Kirk needs to get down to sick bay immediately, and there's only one person on this bridge who can get him there. Trust me, Spock," Mandana pleads. The Vulcan looks at her, face emotionless as always. At last he exhales through his nose. He has made a decision. 

"Mr. Sulu, Mr. Scott, with us. Keep your weapons trained on Nero at all times."

Mandana relaxes and looks back at her husband. "Come here," she says again. This time when he takes a step, Scott lets him. Nero crosses the bridge in four steps and kneels down beside Mandana. 

"It's not what you think," he says quietly in Rihannsu. Mandana keeps her eyes forward.

"I said don't talk." She gently rolls Kirk onto his back, careful to support his head. Spock watches it all and Mandana can tell he is anxious, despite the front he puts on. Mandana instructs Nero on how to lift the captain—cradled like an infant, one hand under his neck to hold it still. Nero does as he's told and lifts Kirk in one smooth motion.

"And so help me, if you hurt him..." Mandana warns in Rihannsu. 

Nero shakes his head. "I won't."

"Good. Then we're all set." Mandana looks to Spock for direction. He has collected a disruptor from one of the fallen Rihannsu. A gold shirt—the one called Sulu—joins him, disruptor aimed squarely at Nero's back. Scott hasn't moved from his spot by the lift. 

Spock turns to the rest of the bridge crew. His eyes hesitate for a fraction of a second on Uhura. "Lay low until you are instructed otherwise. We will be in contact."

A chorus of 'yes sir's' rise from the remaining bridge crew. With a last look at Uhura Spock turns and leads the group into the lift. It is cramped, carrying six people, but they make do. Mandana is acutely aware of Nero's eyes on her. Outwardly, she pretends not to care. But inside her heart aches. 

This, she thinks, is the reason he would not allow her and Oren to come with him after Risa. Carrying out this attack, carefully planned, was more important to him than leaving with his family. He has changed. Leonard was right. But he hasn't changed enough—he still follows her like a lost puppy, and he is still unwilling to put her at risk. This she is grateful for, but she wishes it had not been necessary at all. 

Her mind drifts to her son. She fears for his safety, and can only hope that the attacking Rihannsu have not found him. Surely they wouldn’t focus on non-essential decks? Surely Oren would be out of their reach? And if he was found, they wouldn’t harm a child. Would they? Inside, she seethes at Nero. They could have been lightyears away from the _Enterprise_ by now, but no. Revenge had been more important to him than his family. And in the end, he had endangered them. This is not mnei’sahe, she thinks. This is unforgivable. She only hopes that he’ll be able to make things right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am but a humble lab tech and depend on Doctor Google for most injury-related things. I could not, for the life of me, find information on how to move a patient with a neck injury without a stretcher, so you get bad medicine. But it’s fanfic, so who cares? Grey’s Anatomy has committed worse crimes, I’m sure.


	18. Demolition Lovers

He has waited so long to be in this position—one hand at Spock's throat, the rest of the _Enterprise_ crew subdued by the agents under him. Twenty-five years, and then almost three more. He is ready to end this once and for all. 

The plan itself is simple enough, but it requires intimate knowledge of the _Enterprise'_ s systems. Information that Nero, a trained engineer, had absorbed like a sponge that night Ambassador Picard escorted them to Vulcan. Information that Nero had obsessed over for twenty-five years on a prison planet, with nothing to keep him sane but the thought of revenge. 

He had initially been found in the twisted grip of the _Narada_ , floating in what remained of the ship, barely alive. The rest of his crew had perished, but he had survived. He credited his survival to the link he shared with his nearly-sentient ship. It had done all it could to protect him. Once found, he had been recognized instantly. Half of the Empire despised him for potentially igniting a war. The other half hailed him as a hero. But Nero wasn't done yet, and he wouldn't be done until Spock and every last Vulcan took their last breaths. It hadn't been hard to find a number of Rihannsu willing to help him finish his mission. They actually sought him out, promising him Spock's head if he helped them tow in the _Enterprise._ They were inhabitants of resource worlds, looking for an easy way to boost their stature. Bringing the Federation's flagship to the Star Empire would do just that. 

So they'd plotted, and they'd planned, and at first they had started small. The bugs on Natala had been a good idea, but how they'd been thwarted was unknown at the time. Now, Nero suspects, it had been his wife to save the colony. There is only one person who could have known how to counteract the venom from the beetles and that was a Rihanha doctor. 

But the beetles had not been their only plan, and the next year had been spent preparing for the actual attack—the way to definitively capture the _Enterprise_. They staged their operation from a planet filled with magnesite, masking their activities from prying Federation eyes. The plan started with a simple attack on Natala, meant to lure the _Enterprise_ in. And it ended with a Rihannsu warbird, retrofitted with pieces of the _Narada_ , that Borg-enhanced ship, utterly wrecking the _Enterprise._ A simple mining vessel with the Borg enhancements had decimated an entire fleet. The enhanced warbird had no problem dealing with one lone ship. 

There were only about two hundred Rihannsu who had fallen in line behind Nero and most of them board the _Enterprise_ at once. The ship, unprepared for a boarding party, fights back with all that they have. It leads to shoot outs in the halls that make it difficult to get anywhere in a hurry. Nero and his splinter group ignore the fighting in lieu of finding the bridge, where they will be able to secure the ship. Meanwhile, the warbird fixes the _Enterprise_ in a tractor beam and begins to tow it back to Star Empire space. 

The bridge has been almost too easy to take. No one is armed, and they are no match for the six Rihannsu bearing disruptors. Captain Kirk valiantly attempts to negotiate, to which Neroresponds by throwing a fist directly into his temple. The captain crumples, and Nero steps over his body. Kirk is not who he is after. 

Nero's eyes seek out Spock at the science station, and he might have been wrong, but he is sure he sees fear in the Vulcan's eyes. 

"Hello, Spock," Nero says with a grin. With the bridge crew subdued, Nero flicks on the intercom.

"Attention, _Enterprise._ We have taken the bridge. You are now all prisoners of the Rihannsu Star Empire. Surrender or die, your choice." He switches it off and turns to the Vulcan, then crosses his arms.

"Surprised?" he asks Spock. The other swallows. 

"Not as much as you might think," he says. Nero barks a laugh and steps towards him. Spock stands his ground. 

"I'm not going to underestimate you this time," Nero says, advancing until he is toe to toe with the Vulcan. "You die first, and then we wipe out your precious colony."

Spock moves fast, so fast Nero almost misses it. Almost. Spock throws a punch, aiming for Nero's jaw. He blocks it easily—twenty-five years on a prison planet has taught him how to fight the best of them. Then he grabs Spock's arm and wrenches it hard enough to hear something pop. The Vulcan gasps involuntarily and clutches at his dislocated arm. Nero tilts his head.

"I'm going to make this hurt," he says. Spock stares emotionlessly back at him. Nero will admit he is impressed at the other's resilience. 

"You already got Vulcan! What do you need him for?" A voice asks. Nero turns to see a woman he recognizes as Uhura. 

"Vulcan was for ch'Rihan. This is for my crew. Though if I was being fair," he saunters over to her and stares her down. "I'd make him watch while I butchered every last one of you."

Uhura returns his glare and he admires her grit. It reminds him of someone he knows. "But," he turns on his heel and returns to Spock. "I promised them," and here he motions to the Rihannsu with the disruptors, "that I would give them something to return to the Star Empire. So Spock alone will be my consolation prize."

He takes hold of Spock by the throat and the other squirms in his grip, stronger than a human but not strong enough. Nero has done nothing but prepare for this day for a quarter of a century. Spock doesn't stand a chance. Nero slams him up against the bridge bulkhead and the Vulcan grunts. It is music to Nero's ears. He leans in close and whisper's in the other's ear, "Star Empire be damned, I just might kill everyone on this bridge anyway."

Spock struggles harder but it is useless. Nero squeezes his fingers, enjoying the now evident desperation in the Vulcan's eyes. He can't wait to watch the life leave them. Spock's fighting grows weaker and weaker, and Nero is ready to bask in his victory. He _won_ , this is _the end_ \--

"Nero!" a familiar voice shouts behind him, and Nero is all at once lightheaded. He looks up to see Mandana, fiery as ever, standing in the doorway with a disruptor in her hands. A man in red stands behind her. Mandana's eyes are narrowed and her face is scrunched in a rage he has never seen in her before. He feels the blood drain from his face, and he drops Spock without telling his hand to release.

At the same time, the Rihanha agent closest to Nero lifts his disruptor, and Nero knows what he's about to do. 

"No!" he shouts, and charges over the captain's chair, plowing his shoulder into the agent. The disruptor goes off and the blast strikes the bridge ceiling. Mandana is on the ground and Nero rushes to her side. All around him he hears the bridge crew fighting back but he doesn't pay attention. The plan can fall apart for all he cares. He has eyes only for her.

He offers her his hand, and when she looks up she bats it away as she stands.

"Mandana..." He has to explain, he has to make her understand. He also has to know what she's doing here, and not on the _Lexington._

_She lied to me_ , he thinks, and he wants to blame her. Be angry at her. _How dare she not tell me?_ But he can’t. 

"Don't speak," she growls at him, and walks over to where Kirk is lying on the ground. 

He is numb. He wants to go to her, and he tries, but the red shirt who was with Mandana lifts his own weapon. 

"Don't move, don't speak."

Nero glares but does as he is told. He wants them all to disappear so he can be alone with her. She is talking to Spock, and she tries to call him over. Talks to Spock. Calls him over again. She wants him to carry Kirk to sick bay. Nero glances at the one called Scott, watching him to see if he will try to shoot. Scott motions him forward with his disruptor. Nero goes to kneel by his wife's side, searching her face for _something_. She is pointedly not looking at him. 

"It's not what you think," he says in their native tongue. She doesn't flinch. 

"I said don't talk." She tells him how to pick up Kirk up, emphasizing how he must hold his neck still. Nero gingerly picks up the body of the captain and holds him close.

"And so help me, if you hurt him..." Mandana warns in Rihannsu. 

Nero shakes his head. "I won't."

Spock talks to the bridge crew, and they leave for sickbay, with Scott and Sulu keeping their disruptors trained on Nero's back the whole time. In the lift Nero tries again to talk to Mandana.

"If you'd just let me say something—"

"You'd do what?" she says, turning to him. He winces at the expression she has leveled at him. "Explain this away? What could you _possibly_ have to say?"

He shuts up. There is nothing to say, he realizes, nothing that will make this okay. She could accept Vulcan for ch’Rihan—mnei'sahe, after all, demanded it. She didn't like it, but she understood. But this went beyond the ruling passion. This was vengeance for the sake of vengeance, and it was vengeance against the people who saved her life. For Mandana, there is nothing to be said. 

The lift deposits them on the deck housing sick bay, and Mandana, Scott, and Sulu step out with their disruptors raised. Nothing greets them—the fighting is located on other decks, decks that house more important stations. In the grand scheme of things sick bay is not a threat to the plan. 

They arrive at sick bay and Mandana waves the door open. Nero finds himself in a room with stark white walls and a host of medical personnel who all turn as one when the door opens. 

"Mandy!" one of them says, and Nero recognizes him as Doctor McCoy. The doctor freezes when he catches sight of Nero holding Kirk in his arms. 

“What—"

"Where do you want him?" Nero says instead. McCoy recovers and motions to a bio bed just to the left of the door. Nero walks over to the bed and gently rests the unconscious captain on it. He is promptly pushed aside by Mandana, who holds a tricorder in her hands. She waves the wand over Kirk's head and sighs in relief. 

"It's just a concussion. He should be waking up soon," she announces. The mood in the room shifts to one of relief, though there is still an undercurrent of fear. _Fear of him._ She sets about sealing the wound on Kirk's head that is still bleeding profusely.

"What happened up there, Mandy?" McCoy says as he rummages through a drawer, and Nero realizes for the first time that he is referring to Mandana. Something in him prickles. He dislikes the way the doctor is looking at his wife. 

Mandana motions to Spock, who is sitting on another bed, cradling his dislocated arm. "He can tell it better than I can. I only know what happened after I arrived." 

McCoy produces a hypo and walks over to the Vulcan. "Well, Spock?" He presses the hypo, likely filled with painkiller, to the other man's neck. When he catches sigh of the bruising he throws Nero a look but says nothing. 

Spock launches into a retelling, and explains that the bridge is now under their control. 

"Well that's one bit of good news, I suppose," McCoy grumbles. He rests a hand on Spock's dislocated shoulder. "This is going to hurt."

Spock looks straight ahead. "I can handle it, Doctor." With a grunt, McCoy pushes on the shoulder. It slides back into place with a _pop_. At the same time, Kirk groans on the bio bed. Mandana is by his side in an instant, helping him into a sitting position. She holds up a hand in front of his face.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Kirk squints at her hand. "Five?"

Mandana rocks back on her heels, relieved. "A mild concussion, by the looks of it. Thank the Elements."

"Good news, but we still have an entire ship under siege," Scott speaks up from beside Nero. "And we don't know what we're up against."

"No, but we can find out," Mandana says, and looks at Nero for the first time since the lift. _She expects him to fix this._ He inhales through his nose. He loves his wife, but he will not willingly give up the rest of the Rihannsu that had followed him. They had trusted him; he had a duty to them. 

"I'm not going to do that, Mandana," he says, and her eyes flash. 

"Yes, you are, and I'm going to tell you why," she says, taking a threatening step towards him. "Because you're taking us back to a Star Empire that would see me executed, and because your son is on this ship, and you know as well as I do what happens to orphans on ch'Rihan. So, for the sake of your family, _all that you have left_ , you will give Captain Kirk and Commander Spock every last shred of information you have on this attack, and then you will help stop it."

The sick bay has gone silent. The air is tense, uncomfortable. The entire room is holding their collective breath.

Nero wants to argue—it doesn't matter that Mandana is a traitor. She belongs to _him_ , and he's a hero, and they _will_ take her back. But he knows they won't. He knows just how unforgiving the Empire is during this time period. He knows nothing he does will save her life. And Oren...here Nero had almost forgotten his son. When he'd pledged himself to help this new bunch of Rihannsu take the _Enterprise_ , he had done so thinking his wife and son would be far, far away. Safe on the _Lexington_. Out of reach. That is not the case. And now he faces a dilemma—stay loyal to the Rihannsu who had followed him across the Neutral Zone, or save his family. 

Mnei'sahe holds no bearing over either decision. And in the end, there is really only one decision to make. There are only two people left alive who he would willingly give his life for, and neither of them followed him here. Nero closes his eyes. 

"There are close to two hundred Rihannsu boarding the _Enterprise_ , more in the warbird that is currently towing us back across the Neutral Zone," Nero relents. 

"That's not a normal warbird, though," Kirk says. "What did you do to it?"

"The same thing I did to the _Narada_ ," Nero says, as if that explains anything to anyone in the room. It occurs to him, then, that no one on board minus Mandana knows what the Borg are or what their technology is capable of. They have no idea what he did to the _Narada_. But it doesn't matter. The _Enterprise_ wouldn't stand a chance against the outfitted warbird even if they did know what it was. No one stood a chance against Borg technology. He says as much.

"So we're fucked then," Kirk says, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. "Even if we take out every Romulan that boarded, we're still being towed and we can't hope to fight that ship."

Mandana looks at Nero expectantly. "That can't be true. There's got to be something we can do."

"The only way to destroy that ship is to cause it to self-destruct," Nero says. "And to do that someone would have to board it. Remote detonation was deactivated." _By him._ This warbird was an extension of the _Narada_ , bearing the same almost-sentience as his mining ship. No one but him would be allowed to modify it in any way, shape, or form. 

"So we beam aboard, kill all the Romulans still there, activate the self-destruct sequence, and then beam out. Sounds simple enough," Kirk says. 

"We still have to reach the transporter room," Spock reminds him. "And that is no easy feat. There are only two of us in any condition to take on the internal threat.” He motions to Scott and Sulu, standing by the door with their weapons drawn. 

"Three," Mandana says, and both McCoy and Nero speak at once. 

"Absolutely not," McCoy says at the same time Nero says, "No." Nero stares at McCoy through narrowed eyes. 

Mandana sets her jaw. "I was a good shot in my time in the Rihannsu fleet, and we need every hand available. Besides," she throws Nero an icy look. "Someone has to go along to make sure he behaves."

Nero shifts on his feet. "Mandana, you know that's not necessary." _I would do anything for you._

"Do I know that, though?" she says frostily. She looks back at Kirk. "Scott, Sulu, and Nero are not enough to take back the ship. I should go with them."

Kirk does not look happy. Spock chimes in. "My arm does not prevent me from holding a weapon. I can go along as well."

"That just means you need me _more_ ," Mandana insists. 

"She has a point," Kirk finally says.

McCoy looks alarmed. "Jim..."

"Do you have any better ideas, Bones?" Kirk asks. McCoy swallows his next words and looks down. Kirk drums his fingers against the bio bed. "So that's who we've got. Five people to take on two hundred Romulans."

"We have an advantage," Nero says. "They will not be expecting me to turn against them. They will not start firing the moment they see us."

"That gives us the chance to make the first move, then," Spock says.

"Well, it's all we're going to get. You should get going, before we get any closer to the Neutral Zone," Kirk says.

"Yes, sir," Scott, Sulu, and Spock chime at once. Mandana stands straighter and Nero watches her, heart aching. 

Spock hops off the bio bed and rolls his relocated shoulder, then tightens his grip on the disruptor he brought from the bridge. Everyone else is already armed. 

"With me," Spock says. He eyes Nero and motions with his head to the front. "You should lead the way. Do you know how to get to the transporter room?"

Nero grunts. "Please," he says. "I know this ship better than you." He takes point and leads them out into the hall, looking both ways to make sure no one is coming. As before, sick bay is not a high priority to subdue. There is no one there. "Come."

The five of them file out into the hall, disruptors up. Nero is the only one unarmed; perhaps Spock thinks because he does not have a weapon he is less dangerous. It is stupid thinking on Spock's part. Nero has never needed a disruptor.

The transporter room is nine decks down on deck fourteen. They make it to the lift and once more all pile in, filling every inch of the cramped space. Mandana shrinks against his side, giving her mates as much room as possible. Nero resists the urge to put his hand on her shoulder. That would undoubtedly make things worse. 

After a brief ride, the lift opens to utter chaos. A shootout between _Enterprise_ security and Rihannsu agents is in progress, with phaser and disruptor fire searing the air. They are evenly matched and at a standstill. Nero is about to change that. 

He steps into the fray, calm as ever, and both sides pause. The Rihannsu wait to see if he will make a move on security, and security is shocked to see him alive. Nero takes advantage of this. He crosses the battlefield in four paces, and without advertising his movements, slams his elbow into the temple of the nearest Rihanha. They crumple. Realizing he has turned on them, the Rihannsu open fire on him, but he is already moving to the next, dodging disruptor blasts. He snaps the neck of the second. 

By now, the five behind him have started firing, and security, recovering from their shock, pick back up. A disruptor blast buries itself in Nero's side, and he is angered more than he is hurt. He spins on the Rihanha who hit him and throws his arm out, knocking them to the ground. He brings his foot crashing down onto their sternum, crushing their ribs and undoubtedly puncturing both lungs. They will suffocate soon enough. 

They clear the hall in no time, and pause to regroup. Fifteen Rihannsu lay dead on the floor. Security are giving Nero looks, unsure if they should train their weapons on him or not. 

"He is with us," Spock says as Nero comes to rejoin the group. He wonders just how bad those words taste in the Vulcan's mouth. 

Mandana notices he is favoring his left side and for the first time she almost looks concerned. "Are you alright?" she asks, moving to examine him. Nero shifts away from her. They don't have time to worry about a single disruptor wound. 

"Fine," he says. She gives him a look that says she doesn't believe him but drops the subject. Nero is grateful, at least, to see she is losing some of her vitriol.

"There are still nearly two hundred Romulans aboard this ship. Go down to the lower decks and help secure the _Enterprise_ ," Spock is instructing the security personnel. 

"What about you?" one of them asks. 

"We are going to the transporter room. Get to the lift and head for engineering. There will undoubtedly be Romulans there." Spock looks to Nero for confirmation and he nods.

"They will focus their energy on the shuttle bays and the engineering decks," Nero says. 

Security still looks disbelieving that he is helping them, but they salute and carry out Spock's orders, turning around and heading back up the corridor to the lift. The five of them press on. It is only a few minutes later that they stumble upon even more Rihannsu, this time holding a number of crew members at gun point. Nero's breath catches when he sees a crewman in yellow, holding a sniffling child. _His child_. Anger burns in him. 

He turns to Mandana and sees she has also noticed. Her face is pale. 

One of the Rihannsu looks up, confused. " _Prod_ Nero, what is going on?"

Nero strides up to the woman. "There's been a change of plans," he says, and before she can respond he is drawing a knife from his belt and burying it in her side. The rest of the Rihannsu, twenty of them at least, all lift their weapons at once. Nero recognizes they are sorely outnumbered, and in his mind knows they won't care about a stray disruptor blast accidentally hitting Oren. He is only a Federation child, after all. Nero has to move fast. He ducks into the midst of the Rihannsu, forcing them to lower their weapons lest they shoot their own comrades. In hand to hand, he never loses. 

Spock, Scott, and Sulu are all firing now. Mandana is covering the unarmed crew members, ushering them to safety. This battle is longer. Nero throws his knife where ever he is sure it will meet flesh, and dodges the blows from the other Rihannsu with ease. They are untrained, having never served in the fleet. They don't stand a chance. 

After an indeterminate amount of time, there is just one Rihanha left. Nero towers before him, soaked in blood, spinning his knife. The Rihanha looks bewildered. 

"But _why_?" he asks. Nero doesn't answer, but instead looks back to Mandana, hunkered in front of the crew, her disruptor trained on the Rihanha. Understanding dawns. 

"The traitor," he says, and Nero's lip curls. "You two are a good fit."

Nero has had enough, but before he can make the killing blow the last Rihanha turns his weapon on himself. He drops to the deck. Nero sheaths his knife and and returns to the rest, stopping just short of the group. He imagines he is a frightening sight, covered in blood. His eyes skim over the crew, searching for Oren. Mandana has found him first, and she is holding him, her face buried in his dark hair. 

Spock, Scott, and Sulu all stand back. 

"Someone needs to get these people to safety," Spock says, and Mandana looks up. Her eyes are glossy and she kisses her son. 

"But that someone is not me," she answers. "We still must make it to the transporters."

"Mandana, you don't have to come," Nero says. 

She sets her jaw and looks at him. Her gaze is fierce, but not angry. "Strangely enough, I still don't _trust_ you."

"Then we'd better get moving," Sulu says. "Who knows how close we are to the Neutral Zone by now."

Mandana nods and returns her son to the crewman who had been watching him. He fusses and she shushes him. 

"Soon, love," she purrs, then picks up her disruptor and steels herself. 

"Get to sick bay," Spock instructs the group of crew members. "It is safe there."

The one holding Oren salutes and leads the rest of the group off. The five press on. 

It is not long before they come upon the transporter room. It guarded by only one Rihanha, who Nero dispatches easily. 

And they have reached their goal. The transporter stands before them, empty and still and ominous. Nero knows what it means for him. 

Scott slides into the transporter operator's chair "The last time I beamed someone into a Romulan vessel I put them in the engine room. You're going to have to be prepared for a fight," he says. 

Spock starts to ascend the transporter platform, but Nero puts out a hand and stops him.

"No," he says. "You're not going."

Mandana jerks her head towards him. Spock turns. "You don't expect us to send you over there by yourself."

"Yes," Nero says matter-of-factly. Mandana shakes her head. 

"Nero..."

"I have killed many of the crew that followed me here today," he says. "By now I'd think you'd trust that I'm on your side. If just I beam over, no one will think anything of it. Your lives won't be at risk."

"And our lives mean so much to you," Sulu says, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Nero straightens. "They matter to her. So they matter to me."

No one has anything to say to that. Spock offers him his communicator, but Nero declines. 

"If you don't take this, we can't beam you back,” the Vulcan says.

Here Nero smiles sardonically. "Come on, Spock, do you honestly want me back?"

The Vulcan pulls the communicator back, and glances at Mandana. She is looking at Nero calmly, but there is realization in her eyes. She knows what he's doing. 

"The moment the tractor beam is gone, go to warp. The explosion may damage the ship," he says, and turns to Mandana. He speaks in Rihannsu next. ”I can't undo anything. But I can do this." He means his death. He infringed upon her honor; mnei’sahe says it is her right to take his life. But she'll never do that, no matter how she hates him in that moment. Because at her heart she still loves him. So he does this, for her, and to spare her the messiness that would be a Federation trial. She deserves better than that. 

Mandana is silent. He wishes she would say something, anything. Give a doomed man a few last words. But she holds her tongue and looks away. He closes his eyes. So that's how it is. He steps up onto the transporter pad. 

" _E'lev_ ," _My love._ Mandana's voice causes him to turn. And she is there in his arms, suddenly, her lips on his. And how he _missed_ the taste of her, in just the month they'd been apart. He hates himself, for choosing revenge over _this_ , for choosing revenge over _her_. He could have whisked her away to a distant world and she would have come, willingly, and they would have lived happily together. But no. 

There are tears on her face that she doesn't bother to wipe away. "For your children," she whispers in his ear, and he pulls back to look at her. 

_Children?_ And then it dawns on him and he sucks in a breath. He is a fool, he thinks. She steps back off the transporter, her eyes never leaving his. He hears himself say, "Energize," but doesn't feel his lips move. It is the last he will ever see of her, and he ingrains it in his mind. The way her hair falls, how her eyes flash, the rigidness of her stance. He takes it all in...and then she is gone. 

He finds himself in one of the warbird's halls, and he remembers he is still covered in blood. But that won't be suspicious. They expected him to kill Spock, however gruesomely. The crew will expect nothing. 

Some eye him as he walks through the halls, but no one stops him. He reaches the bridge in due time. 

"The _Enterprise_ is secured," he tells the Rihanha in charge. The other beams. 

"It is a glorious day for the Empire," he says. 

Nero grunts in response. He stops by the helm, his fingers dancing over the keys. It is just a formality. He really needs no physical link to this ship, not when the ship can hear his thoughts. 

During the years he and his crew had spent on Rura Penthe, there had been plenty of time to think. To plan. To open one's mind. Telepathic links were not reserved for Vulcans alone. Nero had learned to feel the sentience of his ship, the sentience of the Borg technology that modified the _Narada_. It listened to him without him ever touching a terminal.

He deactivates the tractor beam. The helm blips, but it otherwise gives no indication that the _Enterprise_ is now free. Nero lets his hand drop. 

_Activate self destruct sequence_ , he orders it. 

The ship resists. _We will die. We must survive. Nero must survive._ A faint smile ghosts Nero's lips. This ship, what remained of the _Narada_ , had served him so long. And it had served well. 

_Survival isn't everything. We must honor the Empire_. He doesn't say which Empire. He doesn't mention it is the last of the Empire he knows. 

The ship hums. After some deliberation, it obeys. _Activating self destruct sequence. Self destruct in thirty seconds._ On the helm, a countdown flashes. And outside the warbird, Nero watches the _Enterprise_ go to warp. The Rihanha behind him stands, stunned. 

"What did you do?" he demands.

Nero doesn't answer. He crosses his arms behind his back and takes a deep breath. The countdown ticks ever closer to the end. 

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Nero closes his eyes. 

_One._


	19. Waiting For My Real Life To Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you haven’t noticed, every chapter title is actually a song that somewhat fits the mood of that chapter. I know, it’s very 2009 of me, but in my defense I did start writing this in 2009. This chapter in particular I think the song fits perfectly. You can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cvrzqcfv9mY).

It is not long after the _Enterprise_ goes to warp that control of the ship is regained. The remaining Rihannsu, now without the back up they were sure was coming across the Neutral Zone, are captured. Many commit _hhoasl_. Only about fifty of them survive. In keeping with mnei'sahe, all deny any involvement from the Empire. 

"We stand apart," is what they say, echoing Nero's words of over two years ago. 

Mandana finds herself completely detached from the Star Empire now. They attempted to kill her, kill her son, and she turns her back on her people for good. She does not know the Rihannsu of this time period. 

The damage that the warbird inflicted upon the _Enterprise_ is extensive, but there is no Federation death toll. Injuries, yes, some serious. But no one dies. Thankfully, no one dies. A second ship, the _Excalibur_ , arrives to help with repairs. It is also there to take Mandana back to Earth. Starfleet awaits her. She is surprised to hear they will still take her. 

"I'm the wife of a war criminal," she insists. "I'm the enemy."

Kirk puts a hand on her shoulder. "You haven't been the enemy for a long, long time. You saved the _Enterprise_ , and that's worth something."

Mandana wonders just how far she can push the Federation before they turn on her. The day after the attack she shows up for her shift in sick bay bearing the traditional mourning tattoos. Nothing as glaring as her husband's, but more soft. More delicate. Small dots around her eyes, on her chin, the backs of her hands. She never had the chance to wear them for ch'Rihan, or for Nero, so she wears them now.

She should hate him. She should want nothing to do with him. They had had the chance to run away together, and Nero had chosen his thirst for vengeance over her. But he had ultimately chosen her, hadn't he? She wonders if this is partly her fault. Perhaps if she had said the _Enterprise's_ name from the start all this could have been avoided. But that is in the past, and this is now. Her grief, once nearly forgotten, makes a comeback, and she paints it on her skin using a substance the humans call henna. The effect on the crew is immediate. 

Uhura, for one, will not talk to her. Will not look at her. Mandana is sure that if she attempted to talk to the human she would be ignored. It is saddening, to her, to lose someone she counted a friend, but she knows some canyons cannot be bridged. Spock's demeanor has changed towards her as well. He was always cold, always aloof, but now he stares at her in the halls, calculating. Waiting for her to strike. His looks remind her of those given to her all those months ago in sick bay, when she first revealed to Leonard and Kirk who she was. 

In the sick bay, her patients look almost fearful that she is treating them. They enter, and she treats them, and they leave in haste without so much as a thank you. They still watch Oren for her, but they are more subdued. The joy surrounding her son has vanished. She feels more like a burden than ever before. 

The news of her identity is squelched, however. It never leaves the _Enterprise._ The crew from the _Excalibur_ welcome her, albeit not without the odd looks at her tattoos. She explains their purpose—they are marks of mourning, and when they fade, so does the period of mourning—and suddenly they are less frightening. Hardly the marks of a terrorist. They ask her what she is mourning and Mandana laughs bitterly in response. They ask her no more questions. 

She is to leave with them in one week's time, once the repairs on the _Enterprise_ are complete. And then she will be an official Starfleet cadet, on her way to Earth to finish her education. In thetime before they leave she continues her duties aboard the ship. And when she is not on duty, she is in her room. She no longer feels welcome in the rec room. 

On the second day since the attack, after her shift is over, she is once more summoned to sick bay. She knows what this is about—the results of the paternity test, no doubt. She had told Nero the child she carried was his, even though she didn’t know for sure. She’d just wanted him to know, on the off chance that it _was._ Mandana takes a deep breath and ventures into the halls, holding her head high. She no longer fears the Federation folk as she once did. They may hate her, but they cannot touch her. And it is then she feels it, that strange feeling she hasn't known in almost two years, a sense of belonging even among those who despise her. 

_I am home._

* * *

Leonard sits at his desk, staring at a long, dry report. It lists a bunch of genetic markers, and it compares the genes found on certain chromosomes to a known individual. It lists off other factors as well—blood type, eye color, sex. It is twelve pages of unnecessary information, and one line that concerns him. The results flash green on his screen: _Positive._

Leonard takes a deep breath and steeples his fingers. He should be surprised. He should be outraged. He should be many things, and he is none of them. He isn't even sad, not really. His heart twists painfully in his chest, but it is not sadness. Concern, perhaps, not sadness. He is mostly…empty. Drained. The last few days have been far too much. And if he feels this way, he wonders how Mandana feels. How she'd feel after he gives her the news. 

When she enters he is surprised to see the small black marks on her cheeks. Their shifts have not aligned since the day Nero attacked. He has not seen her. He is not sure why he is surprised; perhaps, he thought, Mandana would try to lay low after her husband's attack. After it was revealed who she truly was. But apparently, she has thrown caution to the wind, a far cry from the meek persona she wore just months before. She pauses in his doorway, towing Oren behind her. The boy lights up when he sees Leonard.  


"Leh!" Oren crows, and tries to run to him. His mother stops him. 

"Stop, love," she says quietly. "Not here."

Oren looks confused. His face scrunches and tears bubble in his eyes. Leonard can't help but smile at the boy. 

"It's okay, Mandana," he says, and opens his arms. Mandana gives him a look before dropping Oren's hand. He rushes over to Leonard and the doctor scoops him up. 

"Aevr!" Oren demands, and Leonard obliges, tossing him up in the air. Mandana watches it all, arms crossed, wearing a funny expression. He eyes her. 

"What's that look for?"

Mandana stares down at the floor. "Of all the people to treat me differently, I'd expect you to be one of them."

Leonard tries to hide that he's offended. He understands where she's coming from. After all, his demeanor towards her had changed since Risa. But that was before he knew. Before he understood. He sets Oren down and the toddler sits on the floor, talking to himself. 

"Nonsense. Nothing's changed. You're still the same person you were a few days ago," he tries to reassure her.

Mandana uncrosses her arms. "I guess."

"I think you know why I called you here," Leonard changes the subject, and Mandana nods. 

"You got the paternity test back, I assume."

"Yes." He turns serious and motions for Mandana to sit. She does. "The child isn't mine."

Mandana closes her eyes. "Leonard, I'm so sorry that I even brought this up to you..."

"But we did get a match. The child....is Romulan."

He expects a reaction from her. Surprise, fear, anything. Instead he gets puzzlement. 

"I thought he was Vulcan," she says, and it would be a convincing lie if Leonard didn't have one thing. A jacket, found on Delta Vega among a number of supplies left with the Ambassador prior to the destruction of Vulcan. And on that jacket, small amounts of skin cells, there simply from casual wear. It isn't definitive proof. The DNA contained in those cells could have belonged to anyone aboard the _Narada_ , or even the Ambassador himself. But when that DNA had been compared to the genetic material of the fetus Mandana carried, and it came back positive, it really could have only belonged to one person.

Leonard wishes she would tell him. He likes to think that, over the past months, they've built a strong enough relationship to where she can tell him anything. But he knows that isn't likely, especially after the events of the last few days. Once again he wants to be angry—he owes her nothing. She hurt him, hurt him deeply, and he shouldn't care. But he does. And, were he in her position, he can't promise he wouldn't have done the same thing she did. When you lost everything you’d ever known, you clung to whatever was familiar, no matter what the cost.

This report could incriminate her. It would send her a Federation penal colony for a very long time. She might never see her son, or the child she currently carries, ever again. And Leonard can't do that to her. He's still in love with her, he realizes. Stupidly, irrationally, in love with her. And he cannot turn her in. Without another thought, he reaches across the desk and deletes the report. The blinking positive vanishes to nothing.

Leonard studies Mandana, waiting for something else from her. A further explanation, an apology. He gets nothing. She is wringing her hands in her lap.

"Not Vulcan, no. Must be another Romulan in Federation space. Probably a lot of those we don't know about," Leonard says, and Mandana relaxes just a little. 

"Ah," is all she says. They sit in silence, Mandana staring at her son on the floor, Leonard studying her with a calm expression. He is deliberating. To say it, or not to say it. To offer a way out, or not?

"You can tell them the kid is mine," he says at last, and there is a reaction. She actually jumps and gives him a stunned look. 

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Having a full-blooded Romulan child won't look too good, especially now," Leonard says. "A kid with a human, though. That would go a long ways."

Mandana opens her mouth, and then shuts it. She shakes her head. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking, I'm offering," Leonard says. "And I'm a pretty good dad, if I do say so myself."

"What's in it for you?" Mandana asks. 

Leonard smirks. "Six months paid paternity leave," he jokes. Mandana just stares at him. He clears his throat and goes serious again. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Seriously, Mandy." 

She looks like she might cry. She looks up at the ceiling, blinking the tears away before they can fall. "I don't deserve you."

"Probably not, but that's beside the point." Another joke that falls flat.

"Thank you."

He wants to reach across the desk and take her hand, but she's sitting too far away. "Any time you need anything, just know you have a friend in me. Okay?"

She nods and sniffs. "Again, thank you."

Leonard smiles and leans back. "So. Do I have another kid or not?"

Mandana bites her lip. “If you’re certain.”

“If I wasn’t certain, I wouldn’t have offered.”

“Then…okay.”

Jim is the happiest Leonard has seen him in a long time when they inform him of the pregnancy, and even Spock manages to not be completely insufferable. The Vulcan offers them both his hand and a stiff, "Congratulations." Jim, meanwhile, throws his arms around both of them. 

"I was wondering when you two would end up together," he says. 

"Not exactly together," Mandana says, and Leonard can't help that it hurts to hear that. 

_She needs time. And even then, there's too much between you two_. He knows they might never be together again. He'll come to terms with that, eventually. The least he can do is be there for her. 

Jim holds Leonard at an arms length. "This doesn't mean you're leaving my ship permanently, does it?"

"More taking a break," Leonard informs him. "When the baby is born I'll take my six months."

"And beyond that?" Jim wonders. 

Leonard shrugs. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"You will always have a spot on my ship," Jim says, and glances at Mandana. "Both of you."

She inclines her head. Leonard can see the tears budding in her eyes again and puts his arm around her. She leans into him. "Thank you."

The repairs to the _Enterprise_ are completed in time. By the end of the week, the _Excalibur_ is ready to depart, and take Mandana with it. Leonard is there to see her off. She and Oren stand on the transporter pad, where just nine days ago she kissed her husband good bye for the last time. She looks slightly lost, up there all alone. He ascends the pad and takes her hand. 

"Will you be alright?"

She forces a smile, and it almost reaches her eyes. "Yes," she says, and Leonard actually believes her. She gives his hand a squeeze. "The past is where it belongs. My new life can finally begin." She releases his hand and he steps back. 

"Energizing," the transporter tech says, and in a flash of light Mandana and Oren are gone, leaving Leonard all but alone in the transporter room. He sighs and leaves.

* * *

_"The senate is a bunch of fools," Nero spat, pacing the floor, and then realized the company he was in. "Apologies, Nyril."_

_The old senator poured himself a glass of hot tea and smiled. "None taken. My colleagues are not the brightest bunch."_

_"They refuse to listen to reason. Ch'Rihan is at stake and they are more worried about a plot by Vulcan!" Nero ranted._

_I sat on the couch, flipping through a book on my reader, though I was hardly paying attention to the words on the screen. Listening to my husband and my father talk was far more interesting. It always was, when the two got together. Nyril approved of my marriage more so than the marriages of my siblings, solely because my husband shared his very radical views about the Federation. Namely, that they could be ch'Rihan's allies, not her enemies. I did not hold this view._

_"I believe you about the Hobus star. But unfortunately, my voice cannot sway many. They already know I am more than in favor of trusting the Federation and, by extension, Vulcan," Nyril said._

_Nero carded a hand through his hair. "If they'd seen what I'd seen, they wouldn't be so quick to dismiss Vulcan."_

_"The words of miners hardly matter. The Guild has no power in the senate, nor the praetorate."_

_"Tell me something I don't know," Nero grumbled. He crossed his arms. "So what do we do? Pack up and leave ch'Rihan to its doom?"_

_"Absolutely not," I said, adding my voice to the conversation. "I will not give birth in space."_

_"You have a ship, Nero. You could go to Vulcan," Nyril said._

_Nero barked a laugh. "My crew would never agree to that. It's treason."_

_"Is treason worse than death? If you succeed, you will be a hero to the Star Empire. Mnei'sahe dictates that the good of the Empire be put before oneself. It is worth the risk."_

_Nero considered this. He pinched the bridge of his nose._

_Nyril continued. "Think of khre'Riov t'Rllaillieu. She committed treason and turned the government around for good over one century ago. It is possible to serve the Empire and go against her rules."_

_"Dad," I said sardonically, lowering my reader. "We've had this discussion. No encouraging sedition before bedtime. My husband already listens to you more than he should."_

_Nyril smiled and Nero sighed. "It couldn't hurt to at least talk to Spock."_

_I sighed theatrically. "I will not be privy to this. You two enjoy your life sentences on a penal colony."_

_Nyril outright laughed. "One of these days, daughter, you will come around to our thinking."_

_"Fat chance," I said._

_But we did host the Ambassador for dinner the very next night. He had been all too eager to meet with Nero following the disastrous senate meeting. I did my part, fixing something hearty and vegetarian for our guest. Meat was normally a staple for the Rihannsu, but Vulcans preferred to refrain from consuming animal products. How the ambassador was faring on ch'Rihan with this in mind, I had no clue._

_"This is a bad idea," I said as I threw rinvr roots into the dish._

_"You're such a pessimist, Mandana," Nero said, planting a kiss on my cheek. I turned into it and smiled._

_"You love me anyway."_

_He spun me around and kissed my nose, then my lips. "That I do."_

_Spock arrived as punctual as a Vulcan. We invited him up into the flat, and he joined us at our table. I let them speak, discussing the impending Hobus supernova, listening only passively. Truthfully, though I loved my husband, I was more inclined to side with the senators. If the Hobus star was really a threat, wouldn't the Rihannsu scientists have picked up on it long ago?_

_Spock left after taking Nero up to the roof of our apartment complex. I couldn't begin to imagine what they discussed, but when Nero returned Spock was gone and he looked lost._

_"I know that look," I said, approaching him at the window. "It's the look that tells me my husband is about to disappear for another three months." Nero didn't respond. I lay my hand on his back, caressing it with my thumb. "Nero? Talk to me."_

_"You know my loyalty is to the Empire. You know I would never betray her," Nero started._

_I sighed. As much as my father and Nero talked, I knew that there were few things my husband loved more than the Rihannsu Star Empire. "Of course," I said._

_"But the senate is_ wrong _, Mandana. This star is a danger to us all, but the politicians refuse to take action." He turns to me, resting one hand on my very pregnant belly. "I need to do something, even if that means disobeying the senate."_

_I tilted my head and rested my hand on his cheek. "I know how loyal you are. But you have a loyalty to yourself as well. You must do what your heart knows is right. And if you do, you will never fail."_

_He pressed his forehead to mine. "Then I will take my crew to Vulcan."_

_My heart lurched. This close to the birth of our child, I hated to lose him. But Nero wouldn't leave me unless he absolutely felt it necessary. I understood._

_One week after this decision I traveled to the station orbiting ch'Rihan to see my husband off._

_"I'll be back as soon as I can. I won't miss the birth of our child." Nero hugged me from behind. "I promise."_

_"Promise me you won't come back until you've succeeded. Our son wouldn't want any less," I said with a coy smile. Nero pulled away to look at me._

_“Our—?"_

_I laughed. "Yes, love. Our_ son _. Now go and make us both proud."_

_Nero kissed my forehead. "Yes, my love."_

_It was the last I saw of him._

_The days turned into weeks, and though I wasn't expecting him to come back immediately, I did start to worry. As I always did when he left. What was taking so long? Vulcan wasn't that far away. Had something happened? Had the Star Empire caught on to what he was doing? Would I ever see my husband again?_

_I only grew more fearful when the senate issued a planet-wide evacuation notice._ Nero and Spock had been right. _My blood turned to ice in my veins._ But it'll be fine, _I thought._ Nero will come back, Vulcan will decide to help us, and ch'Rihan will be saved. _But more days passed, and still no Nero. I couldn't even call him; radiation from the Hobus supernova prevented any subspace transmissions._

_One day, as I neared the end of my pregnancy, a flitter arrived at my apartment. The pilot knocked on my door. "I am here for one t'Karil," he said._

_"That's me. What's this about?" I wondered._

_"Senator Nyril has requested your presence."_

_I went with the pilot, fingers playing with the hem of my dress. We arrived at my father's estate in due time, and I was escorted across the grounds to the main house. There was my father, pacing the floor._

_"Mandana," he said, and embraced me._

_I returned the hug. "What's this about?" I asked._

_Nyril handed me a ticket. I stared at it. "It is for an evac shuttle. Space is limited but I managed to get one ticket aboard. It leaves in two days' time. I want you on it."_

_"Dad, Nero will be back."_

_Nyril held up a hand. "I don't doubt that, but my eldest daughter is in a different system, away from ch'Rihan, and my son is far away on patrol of the Empire. I am sure Nero will be back, but I just want you to be safe. Do this to put my old heart at rest."_

_I took the ticket and stared at it, a lump in my throat. "Yes, I can do this for you."I said this just to keep him happy. I had no intention of boarding the shuttle._

_Nyril smiled. "Thank you, Mandana."_

_I returned home, hoping that Nero would be there waiting for me. He wasn't. My fear grew, and I did something I never would have willingly done: I boarded the shuttle. I can remember it clearly. I was next to a Romulan woman, my grandmother's age. She was praying. Our ship was flying fast, but we had not gone to warp yet. I didn't know why. And I saw a light. So much light. A_ wave _of light. I'd never seen anything like it before, and it was traveling faster than us. It collided with ch'Rihan, and beneath its fury the planet disintegrated._

Mandana pauses the recording, one finger tapping on the desk. She needs to take a few breaths before she continues, and she has learned that this is likely how it will always be. The Federation is her home, but a part of her will always belong to the ch'Rihan of her time. When her heart rate stabilizes, she continues.

_If you take one thing away from this, know that your father was not who the Federation makes him out to be. Carry him in your hearts like this. Do this for me. He was kind, and he was gentle, and above all he loved his family. And he loved you, both of you, Adyrra and Oren. He loved you both._


	20. Epilogue: Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, also, you should listen to the song. You can find it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgyShFzdB_Q).

Years pass. Oren and his younger sister, Adyrra, grow up among the Federation races. Their friends are human and Betazoid and Trill and Andorian. Mandana makes friends, too, and somehow this Federation that she once feared becomes more of a home than ch'Rihan ever was. 

She has Leonard, in part, to thank for that. He keeps his promise and returns for Adyrra's birth, and when he holds her in his arms his face is so full of love it nearly brings Mandana to her knees. She still cares about him. Loves him, perhaps. She will always love Nero, of course. She will never fully be over him. But the mourning tattoos have faded, and she doesn't feel the guilt that comes with moving on. 

They take Adyrra home together, and she stops Leonard at her doorway. 

"I don’t know if we’ll ever work out," she says. “But I don't want anything standing in our way. I understand if you don't feel that same way, but I can't hold anything from you anymore."

Leonard looks down at her. "Of course I feel the same way. I never stopped loving you, you know."

Mandana smiles sadly. "That might change. It's about Adyrra."

Leonard's eyes tighten. He holds the young infant closer. "What about her?"

And Mandana finds she can speak a name that would once reduce her to tears. She tells Leonard everything, about Risa. About that night. About how yes, she had been vulnerable, but not for the reasons she led him to believe. And Leonard listens, stone faced. When she finishes, she expects anger. Resentment. A promise to turn her into the Federation. 

Instead, Leonard says, "I know."

Mandana blinks. "You....know?"

"I knew after the paternity test. I tested Adyrra's DNA against Nero's. I've always known."

Mandana is taken aback. “And yet you stuck with us. Why?”

Leonard smiles, a melancholy smile. "Of course I did. Love is blind, as they say.”

Mandana is shaking her head. “ But it’s treason—”

“You saved the _Enterprise_. You aren’t a traitor. It was a hard situation and I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.”

He leans in and kisses her. She resists, at first. Unsure. It is wrong that someone she hurt so badly would forgive her just like that. But he whispers against her skin, "It's okay," and she believes him. She kisses him back. Mandana still has three years left at Starfleet Academy, and Leonard chooses to stay with her on Earth, much to Kirk’s dismay. It is now Mandana who waits for the other shoe to drop, for this life that she’s somehow built to crumble. But it never does. At her graduation Leonard proposes, and Mandana says yes, overwhelmed. They return to the _Enterprise_ in time for her second five year mission, Oren and Adyrra in tow. The two children have each other, and they are not the first family to be raised on a starship by now.

Mandana and Leonard are married by Kirk, in a ceremony that half the ship attends. Even Uhura is there, sitting by Spock with the ghost of a smile on her lips.

And Adyrra and Oren grow, surrounded by the Federation on all sides but one. Mandana is still sure they know where they came from. In time, they join Starfleet themselves; having grown up on a ship, they cannot imagine living anywhere besides one. Adyrra takes an interest in geology, and Oren leans more towards the political sides of things. He loves his home in the Federation, but he also longs to know just what lies across the Neutral Zone. 

His interest brings him back into contact with Spock. The Vulcan, now considerably aged, has followed in the Ambassador's footsteps. Logically, the only way to save Vulcan in the past is to save ch'Rihan in the future. Reunification is a long way off, but slowly, very slowly, the relations between the Star Empire and the Federation grow less frigid. Decades down the line Spock bids the Federation good bye and takes up residence on ch'Rihan.

Oren, eager to know a home he’s never seen, joins Spock in his mission. He says goodbye to his sister and his mother and his step father. There are tears, but Oren knows his mother approves of the steps he is taking. Before too long the rumblings of a supernova infiltrate the Star Empire. The Hobus star threatens ch'Rihan once again. Spock and Oren speak before the senate, impressing upon the Rihannsu senators the danger it poses and assuring them that the Federation is in a position to help. They do not listen, but one man, a miner, comes to Spock's defense. 

After the meeting, this miner finds his way down to the senate floor to where Spock and Oren are preparing to leave. He runs a hand through his dark hair.

"I'm glad I caught you," he says. "I've seen the fury of the Hobus star. I know what the senate doesn't."

Oren straightens and Spock eyes the man out of the corner of his eye.

"I guess I'm saying I believe you," the miner says. 

Spock holds out his hand. "I am Ambassador Spock. This is my associate, Oren."

The miner takes the hand. "Oren, huh?" he flashes a brilliant smile. "Nice name."

Oren tilts his head. He recognizes this man. 

"I'm Nero," the man says, and Oren returns the smile. He shakes Nero's hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Nero," Oren says. _I've heard a lot about you._

"I have a ship, and a crew. I can get you to Natala, if you're sure the Vulcans will be willing to help us."

"I am sure," Spock says. In one hundred years they have learned, and in one hundred years they have prepared. "We will gladly accept your help."

Nero chuckles. "Well, look at that. There's hope for our people yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, this nine year project has come to an end. I’m immensely proud of this completely self-indulgent work and hope that everyone who reads it enjoys it just as much. Thank you for getting this far. Live long and prosper.


End file.
